She Shoots,He Scores
by Jaee Maee C
Summary: Rukia K is a detective, investigating the recent murder of 2 players of the Japanese Soccer Team, also assigned to protect the "Cannon of Asia", Ichigo Kurosaki. Rated M for lang., sex, and violence.IchiRuki with other pairing. First fic, please review.
1. Demoted!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach (thankfully for you). I don't own the AFC, FIFA, or anything else.**

**The "Cannon of Asia" is, in fact, an actual name for a Japanese player. I don't own him or that name. So prettymuch, I own nothing. **

"GODDAMMIT!"

Papers fluttered everywhere as the brown debriefing folder sailed across the apartment. 

"Feel better?" Detective Renji Abarai said dryly, kicking his loafers off and twisting his head to stare at his partner from the couch.

"No," panted Detective Rukia Kuchiki, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she fought to control the rage that was still spiralling inside her.

"It's not all that bad," Renji said calmly, sipping his coffee and waiting for the resulting explosion. He wasn't disappointed.

"WHAT?" Rukia screamed. "How can you say that! How can you sit there so calmly when-when-when-ugh!" She turned and stormed to the kitchen.

Renji only shook his head, ignoring the angry monologue going on behind him, grimacing as he took another sip of his coffee. He really needed to teach his partner how to make a decent cup of java…

XXX

Renji gagged on his first sip of coffee. He was going to kill whatever rookie had ignored his advice and let his partner, Detective Kuchiki, near the coffeemaker. That was the third time this week some idiot had let her-

"Renji!"

_Speak of the devil,_ he thought wryly, then turned and smiled as his petite partner came flying up to him. "Mornin', Ruki," he smiled. 

"Renji, we've been called to Byakuya's office!" Rukia's eyes sparkled, her cheeks were flushed and her entire face was filled with joy. "You know what that means?"

"What does it mean, Ruki," Renji laughed, already knowing, but wanting to give her the pleasure of saying it aloud.

"He wants our help taking down the yazuka!" She shrieked. "Now, let's hurry!"

XXX

Ten minutes later, Rukia's eyes still sparkled, and her cheeks were still flushed, but this time it wasn't due to joy.

"THAT BASTARD!" she yelled, slamming her hand down on her desk. Renji winced, but he wasn't sure whether it was for Rukia-or the desk.

"What the fuck is he thinking?" she continued, face getting redder and redder by the minute. "We had just as much to do with the takedown of Shin Horoichi as he did! He can't just transfer us over to another case without letting us see this thing through!"

'Actually, he can, unfortunately," interjected Renji.

"But he shouldn't!" shouted Rukia. "I can't believe this is happening!"

She whirled from the window and started pacing the room. Renji sighed mentally and collapsed into her chair, watching her storm past him wearily.

Ten minutes ago, Inspector Byakuya Kuchiki, the head of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police, had informed his sister that she would NOT be assisting in the takedown of Shin Horoichi's yazuka superiors, as he had another case for her that was equally important and would require two or three months, at least, to complete. 

Rukia had been mildly intrigued, and had asked what it was.

Inspector Kuchiki promptly informed her for the next couple months, she and nine others from the force would be offering their protection to the Japanese National Football Team.

XXX

That had been this morning. Now, ten hours later, Rukia had finally calmed down. Her head in her hands, she perused the somewhat crinkled contents of the debriefing folder for what seemed to be the millionth time. Renji was still on the couch, watching some stupid game show. She sighed and snapped the folder closed, tossed it back on her desk, and slunk over to the couch. Renji lifted his feet from the end and Rukia slid under them, slouching down til' her chin was almost buried in her chest. Renji rested his feet on her stomach while she stretched hers out to sit on the glass coffee talbe. 

"When's Don Kanonji on?" she muttered.

"Eight," Renji laughed to himself. He would never understand why anyone watched that fruit loop voluntarily. 

Rukia recrossed her feet on the table, then sighed. "It just gets worse every time I look at that damn file," she moaned. "Renji, we're with them from the end of this month, through the AFC Asian Cup in June, until the FIFA Confederation Cup in August. And guess where that is? Germany! Fuckin' Germany," she pouted.

"It's too bad you're not a bigger football fan," Renji agreed, poking her stomach with his toe. "And we're only with them that long if we don't solve the case before then, remember? And with ten of us going," he frowned, "that definitely shouldn't take too long."

"That's true," conceded Rukia, still frowning. "And as far as homicides go, I must admit it _is_ pretty intriguing.., I mean, who kills FOOTBALL PLAYERS!"

XXX

Two down, eight to go. The killer smiled as they took out the reminder of their latest handiwork, two polaroids. Two polaroids that showcased the most beautiful thing they'd ever done. The smile waned as the killer leaned in for a closer look. It was too bad that two such magnificent specimens had to die, they mused. Sousuke Aizen, the captain-no, _former_-the killer felt their smile returning-captain of the Japanese football team and Chin Ichimaru, possibly one of the best fullbacks in the league, wore the same expression on their blood-covered faces-horror, and disbelief. But it must be done. The killer could not come up with any other plan so perfect, so neat, for revenge quite like this one.

Sighing, the killer tucked the pictures back into their envelope and slid it back into it's hiding spot. The TV flickered to life, and a news recap came on. The killer turned to stare at the screen as the reporter droned, "In regards to the murders of Sousuke Aizen, Captain of Japan's National Football Team, and Chin Ichimaru, the famous defensive fullback who saved the game for Japan against Italy in the FIFA World Cup semi-final game last year, police say there are currently no leads, but at a press conference today Tokyo Metro Police Chief Inspector Byakuya Kuchiki stated that there will be a protective contingent of Tokyo Metro Officers accompanying the team as they play in the Asian Cup and the Fifa Conference Cup later this summer." It cut from the reporter to grainy footage of the press conference. The killer leaned forward, holding their breath as the Inspector droned, "It is our hope that our presence with the team will deter the murderer from striking again," he cleared his throat, "and, as I am sending the best we have, I'm sure we will have the mystery solved soon-"

_Oh, but I disagree, Inspector. You won't "solve" this mystery until I feel that my revenge is complete…and it's too bad you won't even know you're helping me do it._

XXX

"You going to Uryuu's tonight?" Renji asked from the doorway, twirling the keys to his and Rukia's patrol car around his finger. 

"Of course," Rukia replied, walking out from her bedroom. "I haven't seen Orihime in so long!"

"I thought as much," Renji replied. "Although I'm not sure that I miss her cooking so much…"

"Well, with any luck, Uryuu will have convinced her to order in," laughed Rukia.

"I hope so," Renji threw up a prayer. "Now, are you coming or what?"

XXX

_There must be a God,_ thought Renji. Either that, or his lucky stars had finally decided to come through for him. Uryuu had somehow managed to convince his wife to let him take the team (and her) out for dinner at the local sushi bar. Renji had nothing against Orihime, of course…it was just that she often made 'mystery' dishes that you didn't dare not eat. Uryuu was a pretty levelheaded guy, but, you insult his wife, and you were done for. Plus the fact Orihime was one of the most sensitive women he'd ever met, and he couldn't for the life of him ever imagine deliberately crushing her by telling her her cooking sucked. So he ate it. They all did. 

The team that Byukuya had chosen consisted of 11 people, one for each of the starting players on the team, the debriefing explained. Although Inspector Kuchiki hadn't assigned specific people to specific players, he had mentioned that it would probably be a good idea for everyone to attach themselves to just one person, instead of having the entire contingent try to blanket the entire team. The team had decided that, after dinner, they would draw the player's numbers out of a hat. Whoever you got, you were stuck with for the next three and a half months. 

Captain Ukitake, from District One, was the team leader. The rest of the team consisted of himself, Rukia, (of course), a scowling veteran detective named Kaname Tousen, a hapless rookie named Hanatarou Yamada, another rookie named Nanao Ise, Lieutenant Tatsuki Arisawa, Uryuu, of course, Kukaku Shiba, the bad-tempered officer from explosives and her (pretty much useless) brother Ganju, and lastly, Soi Fon from Central Headquarters. 

"Let's have a round of sake for good luck before we draw!" shouted Lieutenant Arisawa, taking off her baseball cap so Hanatarou could drop the pieces of paper with the players numbers into it. Of the team going, Tatsuki seemed the most enthused. She was a huge sports fan, and, at one time had been the second highest martial arts champion in all of Japan-a fact she never let any of her friends forget.

She raised her glass of sake and downed it quickly. Her action was repeated all around the table, and then the cap was passed down to Orihime to draw. 

"Who wants to be first?" Orihime said softly.

"I will," Uryuu said, smiling up at the auburn haired beauty.

"Ok," she smiled back. "Uryuu Ishida, you have…number 23!"

"Who is that again," Uryuu wrinkled his forehead. 

"Izuru Kira," Tatsuki replied. "Good going, Orihime!"

"Who wants to be next?" Orihime said by way of reply.

XXX

"There's the icing on the fuckin' cake," Rukia mumbled to herself, slouched in her chair with her arms crossed as Lieutenant Arisawa let out a very undignified whoop at the news that she had "scored" number 19, Kenpachi Zaraki. "He's so dreamy," she sighed. Rukia snorted. If she remembered correctly, number 19 was a huge man with crazy spiked hair and an eye patch. _So Tatsuki thinks eye patches are sexy, eh?_ she laughed to herself.

"Rukia, we're left with you," Orihime said. "Are you ready?"

"Yeh, sure," Rukia mumbled.

"Ok…you have…" Orihime pulled the paper from the cap with a flourish.

Number 15!"

Rukia felt horror creeping across her face, seeping from the cloud lodged in her brain. _Not number 15!_ She screamed to herself. Number 15 was Ichigo Kurosaki, the "Cannon of Asia," center midfielder extraordinaire. She could feel her blood boiling. She knew his type, just from seeing brief recaps from interviews on TV, and hearing Tatsuki discuss whatever stupid move he'd decided to make that 'miraculously' worked. Oh, yeah, she _knew _ his type. Brash, hot-headed, arrogant, rebellious, unpredictable _**son-of-a-bitch**_

_I don't believe this._

_Byukuya, my brother. _

_You are so DEAD._

XXX


	2. Late

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, the AFC, or FIFA. I don't own the name the "Cannon of Asia," that belongs to a man called Takuya Takagi. I hope he doesn't mind that I'm borrowing it!**

**Author's note:**

**1) When I say 'football', I mean soccer.**

**2) I added a character called **_**Chin **_**Ichimaru, (one of the murdered ones), under the pretense that he is Gin Ichimaru's twin brother.**

**3) To shorten things up, I'm making a list of all the football players/positions and their respective police bodyguards, so as to help avoid confusion...**

**#15, Ichigo Kurosaki, Center Midfield- Detective Rukia Kuchiki**

**#19, Kenpachi Zaraki, Defensive Centerback - Lieutenant Tatsuki Arisawa**

**#23, Izuru Kira, Defensive Fullback - Detective Uryuu Ishida**

**#69, Shuhei Hisagi, Defensive Fullback - Detective Kaname Tousen **

**#17, Chad Yasutora, Defensive Centerback - Rookie Hanatarou Yamada**

**#18, Shunsui Kyouraku, Center Midfield - Rookie Nanao Ise**

**#43, Gin Ichimaru, Center Fullback - Captain Jyuushiro Ukitake**

**#31, Tetsuzaemon Iba, Defensive Midfield - Ganju Shiba**

**#50, Yumichika Ayasegawa, Center Fullback - Detective Renji Abarai**

**#11, Ikkaku Madarame, Striker - Explosions Expert Kukaku Shiba**

**#4, Keigo Asana, Center Fullback - CH Soi Fon**

**4) Enough blabber. Chapter 2!**

Ichigo Kurosaki, football star extraordinaire, rolled over with a loud moan as his alarm beeped insistently. Still moaning, he flipped his wrist to stare at his Rolex, squinting to try and make out the blurred numbers. "8:46?!" he smashed the button to make the beeping stop, then rolled onto his back with a sigh. "Why did I set my alarm so early?" he asked the empty room. Then he remembered; _Practice. 9:15._

"Shit!"

**XXX**

"Kurosaki!"

"Yeah, Coach?"

"Can you tell me what time it is?"

"Um..."

"Umm..," Coach Kisuke Urahara mocked his player before glancing at his watch. "It is," he smiled, "9:18. What time did I say practice was, Kurosaki?"

"9:15," Ichigo muttered. _Damn. _

"Well, Kurosaki, you've managed to waste 3 minutes of _my _time, so I'm sure you and the boys wont mind if i waste a little of yours, will you?"

Ichigo sighed and said nothing. _Great. _By the murderous looks on his teammates' faces, he'd be lucky to make it to the showers without gettin' the team hurt laid on him. Coach Urahara had a system; if you were late for practice, you were wasting his 'valuable' time. And there was nothing Coach Urahara hated more than wasted time. So, he would waste a MUCH more significant amount of yours, which meant, for every minute that you were late, he added a zero and that was how long the whole team ran laps and did suicides. Needless to say, it was a very effective system. 

So, after practice today, because of his tardiness, the team would spend an extra thirty minutes running and suicid-ing.

"You're so dead," Kenpachi Zaraki said cheerfully, punching Ichigo in the shoulder hard enough to almost knock him off his feet. "Don't expect to get _any_ shower until after the entire team is done."

"Yeah, thanks man," Ichigo snorted. "What could I pay you to protect me, Z?"

"Hmmm," the big man squinched his lips and scrunched his good eye, pretending to be in deep thought. "Nah, forget it, Kurosaki. Because of you," Kenpachi opened his eyes and licked his lips, "Poor little Yachiru has to wait an extra thirty minutes for her 'horsey' to come home. Nothing you could offer me, except for the sweet promise of beating you black and blue, could make that up to me."

"Asshole," Ichigo muttered, Kenpachi's laughs following him down the field.

**XXX**

"Alright, who've we got as the main suspects?" Rukia mumbled around a mouthful of muffin.

"Nice manners," Renji sniffed, parking the patrol car. 

"Shut up, and you're crooked." 

"Whatever, I'm the police," Renji laughed when Rukia threw the rest of her muffin at him. "Hey, watch it! This shirt was expensive!"

"Bullshit. I was there when you bought it, and it was only 20 yen, remember?"

"Whatever," Renji stuck out his tongue at her. "Alright, we've got..," He flipped through the file until he hit the suspect list, "...the grieving widow, Momo Hinamori-"

"Married to Ass-in', right?"

"_Aizen,_" corrected Renji. "According to all media," he lifted a couple pages, "and police reports and interviews, she was very distraught and could barely make it through a sentence without breaking down. A complete mess," he read the last line on the police report.

"She could be acting," Rukia slurped. She put her coffee down and yanked the folder from Renji's grasp. "But of course, if she killed Aizen, why kill Chin Ichimaru, too?"

"Money? Sex? Drugs?" Renji suggested, laughing. 

"All three?" Rukia countered, tossing the folder back onto his lap. "She seems the most likely suspect for Aizen's murder, but I don't think she's the one we're looking for."

"Well, she's on the list until proven innocent."

"Yeh. The whole team," she took another slurp, "Is also on that list. As well as the Coach, Ura-"

"Hara," supplied Renji.

"Whatever," Rukia continued, "the assistant coach, Tessai Tsukabishi, the owner, Toushiro Hitsugaya, and anyone connected with them."

"Well, hopefully we'll be able to clear the football team fast enough," Renji said thoughtfully. "I mean, if they all have decent alibis-"

"Fat chance," Rukia snorted. "Fat-fuckin'-chance."

**XXX**

"Oh, I'm sorry. I completely forgot you were coming," Kisuke Urahara didn't _look _very sorry, Rukia thought, but kept it to herself. "The boys are currently paying the consequences of lateness on the field, but they should be here," he checked his wristwatch, "within the next 20 minutes."

Captain Ukitake didn't seem very impressed with the football coach either. His mouth flattened in a tight line, he simply stared at Urahara, who met his stare with a shrug of his shoulders. "While I appreciate," Ukitake finally bit out, "the importance of being punctual, I don't suppose you realize that this makes them late for _our _meeting."

"As I said, I'm sorry." Urahara gazed out at the Captain from under the rim of his striped bucket hat, his face suddenly clear of all emotion. "Now, if you'll excuse me-"

_Hmm, the emotionless mask...the face of a killer?_ Rukia tucked the thought away for safekeeping. 

Captain Ukitake sighed and crossed his arms. "Well, team, it looks like we'll be here for a little while, so make yourselves comf-"

"OMG, what a BOD!" shrieked Lieutenant Arisawa. "Come here, everyone! You can see the team practicing from this window!"

Rukia sighed, glanced at Renji, then walked to the window-

And suddenly knew what Tatsuki Arisawa was screaming about.

**XXX**

Rukia stared out the window, transfixed, as the players made their way around the perimeter of the field. Her attention wasn't on all of them, however. Only on the spiky orange-haired man-no, _god_-leading the pack. 

_Pictures and TV don't do him justice._

He wasn't incredibly tall, compared to some of the other players on the team, such as Zaraki, who Tatsuki was all ga-ga over. But he would still dwarf most of the women on the team. He, and most of the team, had taken their shirts off-and oh, baby, did Rukia ever wish that she'd taken up watching football a lonnnnggggg time ago. 

His shoulders were broad, his hips were narrow, and the entire length of him was lean, compact muscle, that gave him a certain grace and fluidity when he moved-and oh, god, could he _move-_

Then Rukia realized, laughingly, that the reason _why _Kurosaki was at the beginning of the pack was that the rest of the team seemed to be chasing him. Which meant only one thing-he was the one that had been late. And with that revelation, the lust clouding her brain dissipated when she belatedly remembered that _she _ was his police babysitter, and _she'd _have to wait for him.

_Bloody hell._

**XXX**


	3. Don't Make Me Wait

**Disclaimer: I OBVIOUSLY don't own Bleach. (Thankfully for you, and any other Bleach fans out there.) I don't own FIFA or AFC. I don't own the name "Cannon of Asia".**

**Author's Note: **

**It's been pointed out that I inverted the syllables of the **_**yazuka **_**(Japanese mafia), and that it should actually be **_**yakuza.**_** It wasn't intentional, and I'm sorry. **

**Although we 'all' love sex, rest assured, it WILL be awhile before Rukia and Ichigo do the damn thing. Can't say the same for other members of the police/football team though... hehe.**

**And thank you all for the reviews! **

**Without futher aplomb,**

**Chapter 3.**

"Fuck, that's cold!" Ichigo Kurosaki, the (now well-beaten) star midfielder, hissed as the water hit him. After some 'team hurt', the rest of the team had showered and left, leaving Ichigo to pick his battered body off the ground and get his shower, finally. He could've waited until he got back to his condominium, he supposed, but that would mean-he shuddered-leaving sweat marks on the leather of his Mercedes Benz S550. He would much rather take a thousand cold showers then leave ANY kind of mark on his baby, thank you.

"It's not too bad," he muttered to himself. Instead of running the water until it was ice cold, it seemed his teammates had decided to spare him-

"Shit!"

**XXX**

Jesus, what was taking the bastard so long? Rukia slumped against the wall. Her relaxed posture gave away nothing of the anger fisting in her stomach. _If he's not here within the next 10 minutes, fuck it, and I HOPE the killer kills him next, _she thought darkly.

"Hey, little girl."

Rukia turned her head, only to be confronted with a male chest in all its naked, wet glory-but she wasn't paying any attention to that.

"Little girl!?" She yelled, the anger exploding. "You bastard!"

**XXX**

One second, the girl was just slumped against the wall, and the next, she was calling him a bastard and punching him in the stomach-_hard. _Whooouuuuuufff! Ichigo felt the air leave him in a rush, and he fell to his knees, unable to breathe-

Until a small hand forced his head down. Ichigo sucked in a breath, then lifted his head to glare up at the chick staring down at him. "What THE HELL is your problem?"

Rukia stared down at the orange haired footballer in disgust. "I am NOT a little girl," she huffed, "and don't let me EVER hear you call me that again!"

"Alright, alright," Ichigo muttered, climbing to his feet, wanting to turn the tables of intimidation. On closer inspection, he noticed that she was not, in fact, a little girl-just a very tiny woman. _But should anything that painful come from anything that tiny? _He wondered, clutching his stomach. He loomed over her, settling the well-known Kurosaki scowl on his features. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for your sorry ass," the girl, no, _woman,_ bit back. Her eyes flashed and Ichigo was annoyed at himself for noticing their unusual violet colour.

"Well, where's the picture, and I'll need something to sign it with," Ichigo snarled, holding out his hand expectantly, only to have a small leather case slapped into it.

"You really are an idiot, aren't you? I'm not here for an autograph!" the woman retorted. "Open it, dumbass!" she shouted, when he hesitated.

Gingerly, Ichigo lifted the top of the little book and looked down into the same violet eyes drilling him now. He scanned the ID, relieved to see it was police, and not journalistic, before slapping it shut and handing it back to the petite terror infront of him. "Well, Detective Kuchiki," he smirked, "do you usually attempt to beat up the people you're supposed to be trying to protect?"

"How do you know I'm the one that's protecting you?"

"Welp," he drawled, lifting one eyebrow, "You're all alone in this hallway, you said you were waiting for my 'sorry ass'. I was all alone in the shower, and all my teammates seemed to be in a big hurry to get out of the changing room, for a reason I didn't quite remember until now-we were supposed to meet our police escorts like," he checked his watch, "oh, an hour ago?

I may be a jock," he continued, "but, on occasion, I _am _capable of putting two and two together, Miss Kuchiki."

"Bravo, Mr. Kurosaki," her voice dripped sarcasm. "Now how 'bout you go get some clothes on so we can go get something to eat. I haven't had lunch yet, thanks to you, and I'm starving."

"Sorry about that," the footballer shrugged his-Rukia mentally kicked herself for noticing-muscular shoulders,a rueful grin lifting the scowl. "I was a little busy getting my ass kicked by my fellow teammates."

"I can see why," she snorted. "Now go get some clothes on, before I starve to death."

**XXX**


	4. Come On Up

**Disclaimer: I do Not own Bleach. I don't own FIFA, the AFC, or the name "Cannon of Asia." I DO own a broken laptop with no wireless.**

**Author's note: **

**Since I'm sorry for the shortness of the previous chapter,**

**I thought I'd apologize by updating with a longer one. **

**Thanks for reading!**

Ichigo swore his credit card actually felt lighter after the huge dent he was sure Detective Kuchiki's "lunch" had put in his account. He'd taken her to one of the most expensive restaurants in town (at her request, _of course_), and was still reeling in shock from the amount she'd eaten. _Who would've guessed something that tiny could consume two appetizers, a three course meal, and then still have room for dessert afterwards? _He shook his head. That was definitely the last time he was buying her lunch.

Rukia couldn't help smirking as she trailed behind the much taller footballer. That'd teach him to be late again! The smile twisted into a grimace as Kurosaki picked up his pace. The only drawback of stuffing oneself full of food was that sluggish, dragging feeling that always followed.

"Hurry up, fatty!" Ichigo's laughter echoed in her head.

"Shut up, Kurosaki. You _offered _to pay, remember?" Her smirk returned.

"Yes, I did, but you can be sure it won't be happening again anytime soon," he returned. "I think you cleaned out my entire account!"

"As if that's even possible, Kurosaki," Rukia scoffed, opening the door of his Mercedes and clambering inside. "You make WAY more money than I do and I can afford to feed myself."

"That's hard to believe, considering the way you eat," Ichigo shot back, turning the key in the ignition, reveling in the quiet _vrrrooom _as his engine came to life.

Rukia said nothing, squirming to adjust her seat to better accommodate her swollen stomach. _Damn! Why did I have the three-course?_

"A lil' uncomfortable there, eh?" Ichigo raised one eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twisting as she struggled with her seatbelt.

"Shut up, Kurosaki," she hissed.

"You really should cut down, you know," he continued, "Over-indulgence is bad for your heart-not to mention your figure." He scanned her quickly before sliding his eyes back to the road.

"I said shut up!" Rukia glared at him, more angry at the tingles his glance had incited then his actual words. He closed his mouth, but a smile still played with the corners and his shoulders still shook with laughter-that intensified as she lurched forward when he accelerated suddenly. "You bastard," Rukia ground her teeth together, clutching her now-queasy stomach with a hateful glare.

**XXX**

Ichigo was sure he'd hit every possible pothole in Tokyo by the time he pulled into his parking spot. _Sorry girl, _he apologized, sliding his finger over the steering wheel gently. It had been worth it though, to watch Detective Kuchiki's face getting greener and greener. _That's what you get when you eat too much,_ he laughed, walking around the car to open her door as she undid her seatbelt.

"You're an asshole."

"So I've been told," Ichigo shrugged off both the insult and the remorse he felt stirring in his gut. "You shouldn't have eaten so much-"

"Hey, Ruki!" Ichigo turned to see a tall, red-haired man heading towards them, center fullback Yumichika Ayasegawa trailing behind him. Yumichika, Ichigo, Kenpachi, Ikkaku Madarame, and Keigo Asana all lived in the same condominium. Yumichika and Ikkaku roomed together, and Kenpachi often said he couldn't imagine a more unlikely pair of roommates. Yumichika was quite possibly the most shallow man on earth, and the only thing he cared about was whether or not things were _beautiful._ Ikkaku loved exactly three things in life; sake, football, and violence, in that order. Walking from one side of their apartment to the other felt like going between two different dimensions. They were on the tenth floor, one above Ichigo's condo. Kenpachi and his 'daughter' Yachiru lived one below on eight, and Keigo lived on the 25th, the very top floor of the condo.

"Hey, Renji," Rukia replied, a smile lightening the still-green pallor of her face. "What're you doin' here?"

"You left your stuff in the patrol car, 'member?" Renji reminded her gently, nodding at Yumichika who was carrying her suitcase, holding it as far away from his body as possible, muttering something about, if Rukia heard correctly, red pleather being the _ugliest _thing he'd ever let that close to him. "Besides," Renji cleared his throat, "I'm a floor above you in this condo."

"Oh, fuck yes!" Ichigo scowled at Rukia's obvious relief at that news. "Here, I'll take that," she said, reaching for her suitcase.

"No, let me get it," Ichigo wasn't sure who was more surprised when he heard those words leave _his _mouth-him or Rukia. He almost yanked the case from Yumichika's grasp.

"Ok," Rukia said slowly. "Thank you for carrying it..."

"Ayasegawa Yumichika," supplied the black haired man, wiping his hands against his T-shirt as if red pleather carried some sort of fatal disease. "Nice to meet you."

"Kuchiki, Rukia," she said, smiling. "Thanks again, Yumichika."

"Well, even if your suitcase isn't beautiful, at least you are, somewhat," he said bluntly.

Renji, recognizing the storm brewing on his partner's face, jumped in quickly with;

"Have you eaten yet, Rukia?"

"Has she ever!" Ichigo's snicker turned into a wheeze as a particularly sharp elbow hit his solar plexus in just the right spot.

"Yes, Renji, I had a bite to eat," Rukia's tone dripped sweetly. "Mr. Kurosaki was kind enough to pay for it, as well."

"Oh, was he?" guffawed Renji. "How's your checkbook holding up?"

"Not well," gasped Ichigo.

"No, I don't expect so," Renji agreed. "Not many bank accounts go through a Kuchiki Chow Down and survive."

"Renji!" Rukia gasped, her face turning purple with rage. _How dare he!_

"Sorry, Ruki, but last time I paid for dinner, I distinctly remember it putting me in the red for the next month, at least," Renji shrugged. "But all this talk about eating is making my inner bear come out," he patted Rukia on the shoulder, "so go get settled in and we'll chat later."

"Alright," sighed Rukia. "Happy eating."

"You bet," Renji laughed. "Come on, Yumichika."

"We better be going somewhere really beautiful," Yumichika whined, but followed Renji through the parking lot. Rukia watched Renji stride across the parking lot for a couple of seconds, a strange feeling creeping across her shoulderblades. She didn't want to admit it, but after seeing Renji, she felt even more awkward with Kurosaki. _As if that's possible._

"Who is that, by the way?" Ichigo grunted as Rukia fell into step beside him.

"My partner, Detective Abarai. Abarai Renji," she supplied. "We've known each other ever since we were kids."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Rukia said. "Are you sure you don't want me to carry that?"

"Yeah," Ichigo replied, lifting the suitcase a little higher. "I'm positive."

**XXX**

"Hey, Yamamoto!" Ichigo nodded to the wizened doorman in greeting.

"Good evening, Mr. Kurosaki," the older man glared back. "It's _Mr. _Yamamoto to you, young one. Another one of your _guests, _tonight, ehn?"

"Nope, she's my bodyguard," Ichigo smiled. "Detective Kuchiki, I'd like you to meet the best damn doorman in the world, Yamamoto Shigekuni."

A blush filled the old man's cheeks at Ichigo's praise, and Rukia realized the earlier banter between them was just to hide their mutual respect.

"Hello, Mr. Yamamoto," she bowed slightly. "I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Likewise, I'm sure," the old man gave her a smile and a slight bow back. Despite his age, and a slight stoop, Rukia could see that he still had a great deal of muscle tone.

"Would you like me to carry that suitcase for you, Mr. Kurosaki?"

"Thanks, but no thanks, old man, I wouldn't want you to injure yourself," Ichigo quipped. "See ya round, Yama."

Rukia giggled as Yamamoto gritted his teeth at Ichigo's remark but managed to keep his tone even as he shot back, "Wouldn't this be a nice night for an elevator failure?"

"Not with someone else in the elevator, no," Ichigo replied, pressing number nine and waving as the door slid closed. "Nice try, though."

"One day, Kurosaki," came the answering yell from the lobby.

**XXX**

"He's nice," Rukia commented, leaning against the wall and mimicking Ichigo's posture, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yeh, ol' Yama's the greatest."

An awkward silence fell. Floors 3, 4, and 5 passed before Rukia could think of anything (that passed as intelligent) to say.

"Thanks for um, carrying my bag," she said finally.

"You're welcome," Ichigo couldn't resist insulting her again. "I didn't think that you'd be able to, in your engorged-"

"Look, Kurosaki," she snarled. "I waited for _an hour and a half _for you to show up. I deserved that three course meal and you know it."

"Whatever, fatass," Ichigo laughed.

"Shut up, strawberry."

"Strawberry!? Where the hell did that come from?"

"Isn't that what your name means?" Rukia asked sweetly, uncrossing her arms.

"No!" protested Ichigo hotly.

"Are you sure?" she laughed. "I'm pretty sure that's what it-"

"My-name-does-NOT-mean-strawberry," he growled.

"I don't believe you."

"It doesn't mean strawberry!"

"Yes, it does-"

"No, it doesn't," Ichigo stuck out his lower lip angrily. "It means-"

The door to the elevator opened at floor 8.

"Uncle Ichi!"

The high-pitched squeal warned Ichigo that the 'pink terror' was en route.

"Brace yourself," he warned Rukia, uncrossing his arms and locking his hands onto the gold bar behind him.

"What?!"

"Trust me," Ichigo muttered. "You don't want to NOT be holding onto something when Yachiru's around."

_She'll understand in a second, _Ichigo thought to himself as Rukia slowly grasped the bar, confusion written across her face. And then 'Hurricane' Yachiru was upon them.

"UNCLE ICHI!"

**XXX**


	5. Watch the Tot!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, the AFC, FIFA, Mercedes Benz, or any other brand name I mention. I DO own a Bleach poster. What's that? Oh, I love you too, Ichigo.**

**Authors Note: **

**1) I was hallucinating. Ichigo didn't say he loved me. DAMN.**

**2) There is fluffiness in this chapter, but I refuse to apologize for it. Consider yourself warned.**

"UNCLE ICHI!"

Police Lieutenant Tatsuki Arisawa watched the pink head bobbing down the hall towards the elevator with a grin. As strong and preocious as the little girl was, she was adorable more than anything. She turned to look at her other 'charge', Kenpachi Zaraki, and had to bite back a sigh. _My GOD, is he ever yummy._

The muscular footballer was currently dressed in long black shorts, a black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up his-_oh-so delicious_-forearms, and bright green flipflops that he had promptly exchanged his cleats for back at the arena. Oh, did she forget to mention his shirt was _unbuttoned halfway?_ She could see the edge of one curved pectoral peeking out at her, beckoning her to come and run her hand-

_Holy schneike, Tats, get a grip!_ She wasn't in highschool anymore, so there was absolutely NO need for her to be drooling over him like a lovesick teen girl...

Then she noticed he'd been watching her ogle him the entire time. She felt her cheeks redden, and she quickly looked away.

"Ah, your daugh-Yachiru is adorable," she stammered.

"That she is," Kenpachi agreed, pacing over to where Tatsuki stood. "She's definitely a handful though." He stopped a couple of feet short of the Lieutenant and peered down at her. Lieutenant Arisawa was not a very tall woman, but she more than made up for it in the sheer force of her personality.

She didn't seem like a woman who would spend a lot of time primping and preening infront of a mirror, whining about wrinkles or uneven skin tone. At the moment, she was wearing a baseball hat over her short spiky hair, a t-shirt that said Go Tokyo, and a pair of shorts that showed just enough leg to be sexy, but not enough leg to be skanky. And if there was one thing that Kenpachi Zaraki had had enough of, it was skanky, primpy women.

_Man, what a pair of calves!_ Tatsuki was afraid to lift her gaze any higher than that, seeing as she'd just been caught practially eye-raping the poor man, so she kept her gaze glued to them as they came closer-closer-she couldn't look that far down without moving her head, so she let her eyes travel back up over the terrain she'd admired before.

Kenpachi thought _she _was adorable. The blush staining her cheeks made her look younger, somehow. He was flattered that she'd been checking him out. With so many other good looking guys on the team, he didn't think that women would find him too attractive-but little Lieutenant Arisawa had defied his expectations, for sure. He moved closer-_too close, Keni, back up, _the niggling voice in the back of his head warned, but he ignored it and stopped just infront of her.

"She likes you, you know," he said quietly, not moving, just watching her.

"Well, that makes my job easier," chuckled Tatsuki nervously. _I should put space between us,_ she told herself, but her body didn't want to cooperate with her brain.

Kenpachi dropped his head, lowering his voice to an almost whisper. "Her father does too, y'know."

Tatsuki looked up, her eyes shimmering with mischief. "Oh, really?" she whispered back. "And just what does her father intend to do about it?"

"This," Kenpachi sucked in a breath, closed his eye, and bent his face closer to hers.

**XXX**

"Uncle Ichi!" The pink haired tot burst into the elevator and launched herself at Ichigo, who had just enough time to cover the family jewels with one hand to keep a sharp little chin from helping him hit some high notes. _Damn, that was close._

"Hey, Yachiru! How's my favorite pink terror?" Ichigo leaned down and wrapped the arm that wasn't holding on the the bar for dear life around the tiny girl. "Have you been keeping good ol' Ken-i busy?"

"Oh, yes! Uncle Ichi! Guess what-" The little girl's voice trailed off as she noted the presence of another person in the elevator.

Rukia had held on to the railing as Ichigo had warned, but she let go as soon as the little girl had entered the elevator. _Why is Ichigo so scared of this tiny thing?_ she chuckled to herself. _There's no way that she could be any threat to-_

Wham! Rukia's head bounced off the elevator wall, shooting sparks through her skull. She groaned as she felt tiny hands pulling on her shirt. When she opened her eyes, she found herself face to face with a quizzical brown gaze.

"Who is this, Uncle Ichi?"

"She's my bodyguard," Ichigo answered. The tiny woman wasn't much bigger than the child, he noted dryly. If Yachiru could knock _him over,_ Rukia didn't stand a chance. He was actually in awe of the fact she _was_ still standing.

"Like 'Suki?" The little girl had her hands clenched in Rukia's shirt and was surveying her through almost crossed eyes.

"'Suki? Who's 'Suki, Yachiru?"

"Ken-chan's bodyguard!" Yachiru announced, detaching herself from Rukia's shirt and jumping to the ground. "She's so great! She says she'll teach me how to punch!"

_Holy shit, _Rukia thought to herself. _Why the hell would she learn to punch when she can knock people out by simply hugging them?_ Her head still screaming in pain, she looked across the elevator to see Ichigo crouch down to speak to the girl.

"In that case, yes, Detective Kuchiki is like 'Suki," he answered.

"Is she living with you, Uncle Ichi?"

"Yes, she is, Yachiru," Ichigo replied, glancing at Rukia and watching her rub her head, a frown on her face. _I'd better get her some ice when we get up there._

"Are you coming up with us, Yachiru?" He asked, ignoring the horrified gasp that echoed from across the elevator.

"Ummmm..." the tot cocked her head. "Nah, maybe Ken-chan will bring me'n 'Suki up later! Right now I wanna go play wit Ken-chan!"

Ichigo was pretty sure he'd never heard a more relieved sigh than the one that echoed across the elevator at the little girl's remark.

The girl hopped from the elevator back into the hall. "Bye, Uncle Ichi! Bye Ku'ki!" she waved and then scampered down the hall.

Once again, Ichigo pressed nine and leaned back against the wall, completely unprepared for the fist that caught him on the side of the jaw.

"YOU BASTARD!"

**XXX**

Oh, man, how long had it been since she'd been kissed like this? Tatsuki didnt know exact dates, but she did know this: far too long.

It'd been far too long since she'd had a kiss this...innocent, she guessed. They were standing close to each other, yes, but they weren't touching anywhere other than their lips. And oh, what a pair of lips! You'd think that on a man this hard, this, well, _big_, that his lips would be hard, his kiss even harder. But it was the exact opposite.

Kenpachi bent his head a little further to increase the pressure. Damn, but little Lieutenant Arisawa tasted good. He'd forgotten just _how _good a woman could taste, how lost in the feeling one could get. Ever since he'd found Yachiru-

_Oh God, Yachiru. _His little girl. What would she do if she came skipping back in here and found them kissing? _Keni, you idiot. _He found himself reluctant to stop, but Yachiru couldn't come back here and see them like this-

He pulled his head away from hers and took a step backwards. Tatsuki blinked her eyes open, refocussed them on his face. _Just when it was getting good,_ she sighed. "Why did you stop? I was enjoying it," she gave him a coy smile.

The pitter of little feet sounded down from down the hall, the sound getting louder as the footsteps grew closer. Kenpachi cleared his throat. "Yachiru."

"Oh my god." Tatsuki pressed her fingers to her lips, her eyes widening. "Kenpachi, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be," Kenpachi grinned down at her. "I'm not."

**XXX**


	6. Dangerous Woman

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. If I did, I'd be a very happy woman.**

**I don't own FIFA. I don't own the AFC. I don't own the name "Cannon of Asia".**

**I don't own Mercedes Benz. I do own...25 reviews from some pretty AWESOME people, kinda. (Technically, it's your review...but shhhh).**

**Author's Note:**

**OH MY GOD!**

**1) I can't BELIEVE all the reviews I've been getting! Honestly, you all SERIOUSLY made my night. Thank you guys! (I'm a nerd, I know. But you ain't sufferin' from it).**

**2) In regards to all the characters I'm including, I love how all the characters in Bleach are so diversified, and well, crazy. So how could I not include all the other ones? As much as I love Ichigo and Rukia, I really wanted to have all my other favorite ones in here as well...**

**3) I know Kenpachi and Tatuski are a really, well, unconventional pairing, to say the least...but from the way things are going, I think that they fit rather well...don't you? (And I'm not even sure where the idea came from!!) **

**4) Well, I've blabbed on enough. Thanks again for all the reviews! On with the fic!**

Ichigo lifted his hand to his stinging jaw in shock. _She hit me!_

_AGAIN!_

"You BITCH!" he yelled at the tiny thing infront of him. "What the FUCK is wrong with you?"

"MY HEAD, CURRENTLY!" she screamed back. "Why the HELL didn't you warn me?"

"I did! You were the one who-"

"Not properly!" Rukia snapped. "I probably have a fuckin' concussion from that brat!"

"She's not a brat," growled Ichigo warningly. "She's just insanely strong for her age, that's all."

"Pft. As if! Nobody's kid is that strong unless they're on something illegal!" Spat Rukia. "What does Zaraki feed her, anyways? I know grown men that aren't that strong!"

Ichigo opened his mouth to retort, but the elevator pinging to announce floor nine stopped him. Rukia stood infront of him, her chest heaving, her face flushed, her hand still curled into a fist. _Damn, but she's cute when she's pissed off-_where the hell had that come from? Ichigo grabbed her bag in one hand and her arm in the other. "Let's go," he growled, and yanked her off the elevator.

**XXX**

"Here."

"What is it?" Rukia asked wearily.

"An ice pack, you idiot. It's for your head."

"What the hell do I need an ice pack for?!"

Ichigo sighed. "The same reason I need one for my jaw, dumbass. They're called insanely-strong-tiny people. It's called you'll-get-a-huge-goose-egg-if-ya-don't."

"I am not insanely strong," She protested. "Not like that," she shuddered, "thing."

"That 'thing' is a 5 year-old girl, Detective. And you don't have any business being as strong as you are, either."

"Why is that, Kurosaki?" Rukia smirked. "Does it bother you that I can kick your ass?"

"Maybe," he replied. He rounded the couch, collapsing into the dark leather recliner to the side of it. "I'm just not used to having really tiny women suckerpunch me."

Rukia sat straight up, sending a fresh batch of stars ricocheting through her head. "I did not suckerpunch you!" She gritted, clenching her teeth at the pain.

"Right, that's why, both times, you actually landed a punch," he taunted her. "If I would've seen them coming, I could've stopped them."

"Yeah, right," snorted Rukia. "I'll believe that when I see it."

"Well," Ichigo said, unfolding his frame from the recliner, "When we're sure you don't have a concussion and my jaw stops looking like a fungus, we'll try it out."

"Fine," Rukia waved her hand and flopped back into a slouch.

"Ok then," Ichigo said. "I'm going to watch TV in my room. I'll be back to check on you in a bit."

"I don't need you to check on me!" she hissed, whipping a pillow at his retreating back. _I must have hit my head really hard to miss him at that close range _was the last concious thought she had.

**XXX**

"Detective?" Ichigo slipped into his living room, squinting as he tried to make out the numbers on his Rolex in the fading light. _How long did I sleep for?_ He wondered, finally making out a seven as the first digit.

"Shit," he breathed. He shouldn't have slept so long. He crept over to the couch, stubbing his toe on the end table in the process. "Fuckin'-"

Rukia murmured something in her sleep, and he bit back the rest of the curse.

It was ironic, he thought, his lip curling, how completely innocent she looked when she slept. How, well, _defenceless_ she seemed. Her side rose and fell gently with her breath, the movement of her chest matching her side.The one strand of hair that was always in her face had fallen like a shield infront of it. Ichigo reached out his hand to push it back, grazing his hand along her cheek-

And found himself on his ass, cold metal against his nose, and a very sleepy, pissed off policewoman straddling him.

"I'm gonna guess you don't have a c-concussion?" he whimpered. _He hadn't even seen her MOVE._

**XXX**

"Now you're trying to SHOOT me?" As flippantly as he tryed to say it, they both heard his voice tremble. Rukia debated commenting on it, and then decided not to. The situation was bad enough already. She'd only been half awake when she'd 'attacked' the footballer. When she'd woken up fully, she'd found herself straddling his lap, her hand on his neck and her gun pressed to his nose. She hadn't meant to scare him, but he shouldn't have touched her, especially not when she was sleeping.

"Of course not, Kurosaki," she finally said. "But even _you _should know, you never touch anyone paramilitary or military if you want to wake them up without getting yourself leaded."

"Well, I'm sorry, but this is pretty much the most interaction I've ever had-and ever will want to have," he added spitefully, "with le forces paramilitaire, so you'll have to forgive me for not automatically knowing your 'rules'." He leaned against the black marble that was his kitchen counter, latching his hands onto it to hide how they were shaking. In his 21 years of life, that was the closest he'd ever been to a gun, and now he knew he didn't ever want to repeat the experience. _Holy shit, did I ever underestimate her._ Not ONLY did she have to have the hardest punch he'd ever remembered getting, she was also faster than lightning at drawing her gun. _Better keep that in mind, Kurosaki,_ he warned himself. _This is one DANGEROUS woman._

"Relax, Kurosaki," Rukia hopped off the stool she'd been sitting on and wandered out of the kitchen. "If I had wanted to shoot you, I probably would've done it a long time ago."

"Was that supposed to reassure me?" Ichigo asked the fridge shakily.

**XXX**

"Ok, so I need to know exactly what you were doing the nights of," Rukia flipped a page in her notebook over, "May 19th and May 24th."

"The entire night?" Ichigo mumbled around a mouthful of sushi.

"Um, well," Rukia considered for a second. "Yeah, sure."

"Well, the 19th," Ichigo began, frowning, "I spent with a _very _enchanting young lady from Wild Candies," he namedropped Tokyo's most notorious strip joint, "and the 24th I spent with twelve prostitutes in a wild-"

"Haha, very funny, Kurosaki," Rukia glared at him. "The faster I get your alibi, the faster I can clear or arrest you, the faster I can compare notes with the others and hopefully get this thing solved, and all that equals the faster I'll be out of your hair."

"Alright, alright," Ichigo closed the styrafoam takeout containers and stacked them into a shaky pyramid on his coffee table. "The 19th, I was visiting my old man and my sisters in Karakura town, and the 24th I was with Kenpachi from about seven to three or four in the morning?"

"Is there anyone other than those four people that can verify that?"

"Well, my neighbour, or ex-neighbour I guess, saw me before I visited my family," Ichigo frowned, "and there were at least five people in the clinic that saw me. Whether or not they remember," he stood and stretched, "I can't tell you."

"Ok," Rukia scribbled something down in her notebook, pretending not to notice the way the footballer's shirt stretched over his tight chest. "What about when you were with Kenpachi?"

"Ummm..." Ichigo blushed. "Welp," he cleared his throat, "there's two or three strippers that can-"

"Nevermind," Rukia said hastily, not sure who was more embarrassed, and feeling an absurd desire to laugh. _I'll let Tatsuki deal with that one._ She cleared her throat. "We'll need to go to Karakura Town sometime, then."

"NO WAY." His violent refusal made her eyes fly up to meet his, his scowl even more pronounced, if that was possible.

"Is there something wrong, Kurosaki?" He looked down in surprise to see worry etching its way across her face and creeping into the corners of her violet eyes.

"No, there's nothing wrong," he sighed, while every other cell of his body (NOT attached to his mouth) screamed _Yes!_

It wasn't that Ichigo had a problem with visiting his father and his sisters. It was just that he had a problem with his father. _The perverted old bastard's really gonna enjoy this,_ he thought, frowning over at Rukia.

"If there's nothing wrong, then why did you yell 'no way'?" she probed, crossing her legs up under her.

Ichigo collapsed back into his recliner. "It's a long story."

Rukia tapped her wrist with a finger, emphasizing that she wasn't wearing a watch. "I've got time. Let's hear it," she said, uncrossing her legs, turning her body and swinging them back up onto the couch. She leaned back and hugged a pillow to her chest, waiting expectantly.

"I hope you're ready for this," Ichigo warned as he launched into his family history.

**XXX**


	7. Welcome Home!

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything famous mentioned in this fiction. That's why its called fan fiction.**

**Author's Note:**

**1) I'm sorry that I've taken so long to update...:( I hope you guys haven't forgotten what's going on. But don't worry, even if you have...umm I don't know. Anyways, here's chapter 7! I hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it! :D**

The dark shadow crept through the Urahara mansion, visible only when they flitted past the moonlight spilling through the tall windows lining the hallway. A smirk twisted their mouth as they glided past the famed football coach's children's rooms, heading for a dilapidated staircase at the end of the hall-

"Mmmmff!" A hand covered the intruder's mouth, and an iron arm jerked them back against an even harder body.

"Just what do you think you're doing, my kitten?" Coach Kisuke Urahara murmured against his intruder's neck, grasping her wrists and pinning them against the small of her back as he sucked her smooth flesh into his mouth.

"Shouldn't you be-ohhhhhh, Kisukeeeeee," she moaned, taking a minute to appreciate his clever mouth, "-resting, getting ready for tomorrow's practice?" The intruder, otherwise known as Mrs. Yoruichi Urahara, twisted her head to look at her husband. "You did make it at 8:30."

"Practice is cancelled," Kisuke growled, sliding his hand up his wife's shirt to clasp one of her generous breasts through her bra and kneading it as he started walking backwards towards the stairs.

"Ohhhhhh," Yoruichi moaned. "Did you i-i-inform anyone else of this sudden cancellation?" Damn, was it hard to think when he was touching her. Only his arm around her waist kept her from collapsing into a pool of bliss on the polished teak floor.

She felt him shrug behind her. "I told Tessai that you were coming home tonight," he said simply, pressing her wrists against her back tighter as he turned her around to face him and bent to claim her lips.

"That's not fai-" She opened her mouth to protest,but if there was one thing Kisuke Urahara knew, it was how to take advantage of an opening-both on the football field, and in real life. He opened his own mouth and went for the goal, sliding his tongue inside her mouth. He took his time exploring its contours, as if relearning every dip and hollow. His kiss was passionate but not punishing, firm but not grinding. He let go of her wrists, and Yoruichi put her newfound freedom to good use, letting her hands roam where they willed while she matched her husband's intensity with an urgency of her own. Kisuke's hands were now both occupied with rubbing her tits, pushing them together, pulling them apart, his fingers clenching and unclenching in the rhythym he knew she liked best.

Yoruichi pulled her mouth away, watching her husband's face as she dragged the heel of her hand up the growing bump she felt through the fabric of his pants. He closed his eyes and panted, his hands suddenly stilling on her breasts.

"Whatever is the matter, my dear?" she purred, continuing to slide her hand over him.

"You've left me alone too long, my darling," Kisuke replied, opening his eyes halfway to meet the entirely-too satisfied gaze of his beloved. The little minx knew exactly what she was doing to him, dammit. "So, unless you want me to come right here, you'd better stop that." He grabbed her wrist and held her hand away from him.

"But what if that IS what I want, Kisuke?"

"Too bad," he rumbled, suddenly tightening his grip on her one tit while tugging on her wrist to pull her closer to him for another passionate tongue tangle. When they came up for air, he licked the edge of her ear, growling as he did so, "I'm not coming until you've gone first, my love. Get that beautiful ass of yours upstairs."

"No," challenged Yoruichi, unprepared for the sudden pain she felt as his teeth closed down on her nipple through both shirt and bra. "Owww-ohhhhhh." He sucked it better, and Yoruichi was in shock that she could actually feel it through both fabrics. Suddenly, she wanted nothing more than his mouth on her skin-and she wanted it now. She fisted a hand in his hair and dragged his head away from her nipple. Kisuke simply grinned at her.

"See, my love? Get. Upstairs. NOW."

This time, Yoruichi was in no mood to argue.

**XXX**

Tessai Tsukabishi, assistant coach and best friend to head coach Kisuke Urahara, paced the kitchen restlessly as he waited for the toaster to relinquish his midnight snack. _Damn that Urahara, making ME call the team again._ Well, there was no help for it, he supposed. Somehow, he very much doubted that the coach would be up anywhere close to 8:30 tomorrow, unless it was p.m. He stroked his moustache in silent thought.

He hadn't liked Yoruichi at first, but now he had to admit the exotic beauty had something that was good for Urahara. Her lighthearted intelligence complimented Kisuke's easygoing, laidback attitude. They'd been married just a little over two years, but for some reason they just couldn't keep their hands, eyes, or whatever else (Tessai wasn't sure he wanted to explore the third option too closely) to themselves while in each other's presence.

"They should've been out of the newlywed phase by now," Tessai muttered to himself, slathering butter onto his toast. _Maybe it's just because Yoruichi travels so much. _She was almost gone more than she was around. _Maybe that's the secret, then. _

About fifteen minutes ago, he'd walked out from his bedroom for his late night snack and heard moans echoing from a hallway over. _Yoruichi's home. _Now he understood why Kisuke had called off practice; the coach sure wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight. The assistant coach wasn't sure he would be either, if those two decided to go at it in the hallway. Once those two got going, they didn't stop, and they didn't get any quieter either. Tessai breathed a sigh of relief as the moans got softer and softer and finally faded from hearing altogether. _They must have made it to their bedroom._ He'd finally convinced Kisuke to renovate the master bedroom and make it completely soundproof-not only for his sake, but for Jinta and Ururu's sake also. Jinta and Ururu were Coach Urahara's children from previous marriages, and Tessai sometimes felt that he was more-

_Don't go there, old man,_ he stopped himself sternly, then groaned as he picked up the phone.

**XXX**

"WHAT?!" Captain Ukitake growled into the receiver, his brows drawing down into a heavy line.

"Sorry! Sorry doesn't cut it!" He slammed the receiver down, glowering.

"Whatsa matta, chief?" drawled his charge, Gin Ichimaru, from where he lounged on the couch, a smug smile covering his handsome face, a shock of white hair covering his slitted eyes.

"Practice for tommorrow is cancelled," Ukitake slouched over to the window, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Doesn't your coach understand how serious this is!? Why must he play games!" Ukitake fumed. While the soccer team was practicing, the police team was supposed to be meeting to discuss the case. _Well that's not happening now. _There was just no other feasible time for the team to meet. He punched his hand against the window, making the glass rattle.

Gin only chuckled. "The missus must be back from 'er trip," he purred, standing up and stretching. "At least one practice gets cancelled ev'ry time she pops up."

"The missus?"

"Mrs. Urahara," Gin supplied, slinking over to his kitchen. "The only thing good ol' Kisuke loves more than football."

**XXX**


	8. Take A Peek

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, FIFA, the AFC, the name "Cannon Of Asia", Mercedes-Benz, or any other brand name I mention. **

**Author's Note: 1) Um I don't really have anything to say, except thank you again for the reviews, and here's chapter 8. Enjoy! :)**

_Fuck me sideways. _Renji's lip curled as he hung up the phone. Why the hell did practice have to be cancelled? He had been looking forward to having a break from Yumichika, even if it was only for a couple hours. He'd only been with the footballer for half a day, but the guy was already grinding on his nerves. If he never heard the word "beautiful" again, it would be too soon.

He sighed and turned to Yumichika. "That was Coach Tsukabishi," he murmured. "Practice is cancelled for tommorrow."

"Oh, what glorious news!" Yumichika shouted, a huge grin lighting his features. "Ikkaku! Ikkaku!" He ran from the room to inform his teammate, Renji trailing after him.

"Ikkaku, I have the most beautiful news to tell you!" Yumichika sing-songed, practically skipping over to where his teammate was reclined on the floor in a pile of pillows, a sake jug curled into his fist. Ikkaku Madarame was perhaps the most recognizable player on the team, with his bald head and the red makeup fanning out from both eyes that he never played a game without. Add in the fact he was the striker, and you had your basic recipe for stardom.

"What," the Ikkaku said, barely sparing his overeager roommate a glance.

"Practice is cancelled!"

"Hells yeah!" Ikakku shot straight up into a sitting position and raised the sake jug high above his head. "Did the coach say why?"

"No, but I think I can guess," Yumichika giggled. "Thank you, Mrs. Urahara!"

**XXX**

"She's finally asleep," Tatsuki whispered over the pink head nestled in her shoulder. Kenpachi simply nodded, finding it hard to speak over the lump lodging in his throat. Tatsuki stood slowly, shifting the tiny girl against her body. Yachiru mumbled something and snuggled closer to her protecter, a thumb slipping into her mouth. Why Yachiru looked so perfect there, he had no idea, but it was wreaking havoc on his guts.

"Here, let me take her," he cleared his throat. _Get a grip, Keni_. He reached out and lifted the sleeping girl from the policewoman's shoulder, turning and settling her against his own.

Tatsuki smiled as she watched Kenpachi's face soften as he glanced down at his little girl. One huge hand rested on the little girls back, and she moved out of the way with a nod as Kenpachi headed down the hall. _He's so good with her,_ Tatsuki mused, _and she's not even his. _He returned to the room and sat on the floor infront of the couch that she'd just sat down on. He stared at the opposite wall, lost in thought. Tatsuki grinned to herself and shifted over on the couch, kneeling behind his head and leaning down slightly. Kenpachi started when she put her hands on his shoulders, but then relaxed as she started digging her fingers into the tight knot of muscles.

Kenpachi closed his eyes and let out a long _ahhhhh_ as Tatsuki dug her fingers into his shoulders, pushing hard against the tightness she felt there.

"They do have things called massage therapists, you know," she teased.

"Too expensive," he grunted back. "If it gets to a point where I'm in pain, I get Yachiru to walk on my back until it pops."

"Silly man," Tatsuki said teasingly, giggling as he groaned with pain as she dug her fingers in even harder. "The longer you wait and the less you get it done, the worse and worse the pain and the tightness gets."

"Makes sense."

"See, it's probably going to take me an hour, at least, to just get rid of," she tapped across the top of his shoulders, "all the tightness here, not even mentioning the rest of your shoulder blades."

"I think I have time to spare," was all he said, dropping his head back to look up at her. Tatsuki lifted one hand and ran the tip of her finger down the scar that went from his forehead across his left eye to the bottom of his chin, then slipped her hand back to his shoulder when he frowned.

"You should tell me that story some time," she said gently.

"Maybe." He moaned as she hit a particularly tight spot. "You're fantastic, by the way. Wherever did you learn to-ahhhhhhhhh."

"I was involved in martial arts, silly," she replied. "And sometimes it's important that you can relax and tense all your muscles properly, as to get a full range of motion from them, so giving and getting a proper massage was part of my training, at one point."

"Well, whatever you're doin', just don't stop, because you're amazing."

**XXX**

_Who next?_

The killer perused the Polaroids on the wall, a huge grin spreading across their face. With the police escort here, it would be twice as difficult to make the next kill, but instead of seeing it as an inconvience, the killer thought of it as a challenge. "Who should I carve up next?" They licked their finger and trailed it down the rows, finally hovering over one picture, tapping it three times before pulling it off the board and tucking it into their pocket.

_Goodbye, Izuru Kira._

They pulled on their gloves and slunk into the shadows.

**XXX**

"Well, since practice tommorrow is cancelled, we can go to Karakura Town in the morning," Ichigo said, lugging Rukia's suitcase into his guest room. She followed him in, walked around him to the window, checking it was locked, and then turned to look at the rest of the room. It was painted a deep green color, and all the furniture was wooden. The bed had a fluffy white duvet and several different sized pillows, all in different shades of green.

"This is nice," she said without a hint of sarcasm, "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," his lip twisted slightly. "Now, unfortunately, we do have to share the bathroom," he padded over and pushed the door open. "But both doors lock, so you won't have to worry about me busting in on you-"

Rukia ignored his monologue, walking into the bathroom in a sort of awe. Of course the whole condo was nice, not to mention _freakin' huge,_ but the bathroom was truly the piece d'resistance. _His damn bathroom is bigger than my fuckin' bedroom. _Forget watching football, Rukia wished she'd started _playing _it a long time ago, if it meant she'd have a bathroom like _this. _

The walls were basically all mirrored, but instead of having four of them , the room was a sort of octagonal shape, the two doors from the connecting rooms being a part of the larger mirrors. The floor was a slick, smooth marble that felt cold against her feet. There was a shower stall with frosted glass tucked into the corner, and against one wall there was a long marble counter with two sinks. The other side of the room, there was a Jacuzzi sunk into the floor, and as the jets weren't on, Rukia could see that it was about 4 feet deep with about twenty different jets in total. _Holy shit. _If she got to use that, you can bet she wouldn't be leaving the bathroom for hours on end.

"Like what you see?" she looked over to see Ichigo leaning against the doorjamb, arms crossed and laughter playing with the corners of his mouth.

"Shut up, Kurosaki. Is all this," she sniffed and waved her hand around, "really necessary? I mean, you've got what, fuckin' twenty jets in that stupid thing?"

"Oh, it's completely necessary," he assured her. He treated himself to a leisurely scan of her body, lingering on her long legs-_should someone that short have legs that long?_-before sliding his gaze back up to her face. Damn, he wished she'd take off that stupid police uniform so he could figure out just how much woman was under there. "And, I bet I could warm even _you_ up-"

Ummphhh! He doubled over as Rukia 's fist caught him in the stomach.

"Not likely, Kurosaki," she called over her shoulder, the barest hint of a smile sitting on her face. "Not bloody likely."

Of course, she'd never tell him that him that that lazy checkin-her-out thing he did? Made her beyond warm.

It got her hot.

**XXX**


	9. We Run It

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, AFC, FIFA, Mercedes Benz, the name "Cannon of Asia," the list goes on and on.**

**Author's note:**

**1) Well, this chapter was SUPPOSED to have more murder/mayhem. But Ichigo and Rukia will do what THEY want to do, apparently...so this is prettymuch IchiRuki.**

**2)...and thanks so much for the reviews! You guys are great!**

**3) Now, here's chapter 9!**

Ichigo stabbed the brake with his foot, making the SUV riding his tail come perilously close to hitting his bumper. _Asshole. _Ichigo glowered at the driver, unable to make out any features from his rearview mirror. He would never understand why it was that people who drove SUV's seemed to think they owned the entire road. _He better not hit my baby. _If the moron rear-ended him, Ichigo would kick their ass. He could use a good fight, he mused, slightly disappointed when the asshole finally blew past him. _Yeah, real cool, buddy. Real cool._

Beside him in the passenger seat, Rukia muttered something when the car jerked, but stayed asleep. Shortly after they'd started driving, the little policewoman had just passed out, and Ichigo couldn't decide whether it was a good or a bad thing. At least the fireball was quiet, and, better yet, his sore stomach reminded him, asleep. She just looked so, well, _normal _asleep. _Like women are supposed to look. Soft, sweet, defenseless..._

**XXX**

After telling Rukia the (heavily edited) version of his family story, all the unedited parts Ichigo hadn't mentioned-hadn't even thought about, really-had attacked him in his dreams. He woke up drenched in sweat, close to falling off of his bed, a dozen feeble "mom's" dying on his lips. _Just when I thought I'd conquered it. _He hadn't had the nightmare in over a year, and he guessed that he never would again. _Wrong._

He spent half an hour pacing his condo restlessly, trying to stop the dream-and the much worse reality-from replaying themselves over and over again. At long last he decided he should go check on Rukia again, to make sure she didn't have a concussion (not that he thought she did, but...still).

He tiptoed into the guest suite, being as quiet as he could. He'd learned his lesson earlier this evening. He was rather fond of his body in its non-leaded state, thank you. He crept to the end of the bed and looked down on the sleeping detective-

_Holy shit._

Sometimes wishes shouldn't come true, Ichigo groaned. He'd wished earlier that he could see if there was a woman under that uniform, and now the answer lay infront of him. And that answer? Was _all._ In spite of her small stature, under that boxy, unflattering police uniform, Detective Rukia Kuchiki was _all woman_.

She was curled on her side, her legs tucked up under her, one hand resting ontop of the pillow and her other underneath it. Instead of some prim cotton nightgown, (which he'd foolishly imagined was the only thing she'd sleep in), she was in a silky black negligee that was more lace than actual material. _Oh, so now you have a sexy side, eh, Detective?_

The sheets covered her to her stomach, and Ichigo spent a few seconds admiring her tiny waist. _I bet I could have my hands overlapping on that hourglass. _His gaze roamed higher, and he caught his breath as his eyes took in the jut of her nipple against the lace of her nightie. He had a sudden urge to-

_What the hell are you doing, Kurosaki? Get out of here now! _Man, Isshin would be proud. Ogling women in their sleep? When had he ever been that desperate?

_Now,_ his half-hard cock mocked him.

"Shut up," he muttered as he fled the room. _Oh, great. _Now he was talking to his dick!?

"Man, do I need to get laid," he told the showerhead as it dumped cold water on his overheated sex. Unfortunately it didn't do anything for his far too accurate memory.

**XXX **

Rukia woke up slowly, blinking her eyes against the brightness of the sun against the road. She glanced over at Ichigo, who was gazing at the road as he swung the car around a corner. Before he'd slipped on the aviators he was currently wearing, his eyes had looked puffy and red. Rukia had almost teased him about staying up late, but something else was hiding in his eyes that told her something bad had kept him up.

Earlier that morning, he'd walked into the kitchen in a pair of low slung shorts and a wifebeater, and told her he was going for a run at the condo's track, which was on the first floor.

"Well I'm coming with you," Rukia said, setting down her mug. "Give me a couple seconds to change."

Ichigo raised his eyebrow, folding his toned arms against his-why did she keep noticing?-even more toned chest. "You don't look like you do much running."

"Shows what you know," she retorted, mildly insulted. "I'll be back in a minute."

"If you're longer than five, I'm not waiting for you," Ichigo informed her with a smirk.

She only glared at him.

Inside her room, Rukia stood infront of her suitcase in indecision. What should she wear? _This is ridiculous. It's not like this is a date or anything. _She finally decided on a simple black sports bra with a pair of red, very short shorts. She walked into the living room clutching her socks and shoes and sat on the couch to put them on, taking secret pleasure in the way Ichigo's eyes latched on to her every move.

"Well, what are you waiting for?" she got up and walked to the door. "Let's go."

**XXX**

"So, do you usually run in the mornings?" asked Rukia as they got into the elevator.

"I try to run a couple of miles three times a week," Ichigo replied. "Usually I go around the neighbourhood, but it's just easier..." he trailed off, but Rukia knew the end of the sentence. _With you here..._

She nodded, and Ichigo continued, "Usually I pick up Kenpachi on the way down, but he said he was gonna see Yachiru off to school today, so I'm kinda glad you're coming along."

Rukia's mouth dropped. Did he honestly just say that? She cleared her throat and grunted, "Don't mention it."

"I wasn't done," Ichigo laughed. "I need someone to leave behind."

"You-"

Ping! The elevator doors opened and Ichigo jumped out, narrowly escaping Rukia's fist. "I'll tell you what," he said, that stupid, arrogant smile covering his stupid, arrogant face, "you manage to lap me, and I'll let you have a free shot."

"You're so on," Rukia said, sprinting past him towards the track.

**XXX**

She'd passed him. Again. Ichigo grunted and picked up his pace, his long legs eating up the track infront of him as he struggled to catch up. _Idiot. _He'd underestimated her-again. He scanned her body, taking a second to appreciate how the snug shorts hugged her hips and-_oh, fuck_-tight ass.

"Hey, Kurosaki, maybe if you'd stop staring at my ass, you'd might be able to see I'm about to lap you," taunted Rukia, turning her head over her shoulder to flash him a cocky grin.

"Maybe if you'd worn more than a painted-on belt, I'd be able to," Ichigo shot back, enjoying the way her eyes darkened as he sprinted to catch up to her.

"Watch it, Kurosaki."

"Oh believe me, I am," he said, allowing his gaze to travel from her face down her body, lingering on her tits,legs, and her fantastic ass, before sliding his mischevious eyes back to hers.

"Keep your eyes in your head, pervert," Rukia swatted at his arm, annoyed at the heat that returned to plague her at his lecherous gaze.

"Hey, I didn't tell you to wear that nice little outfit," he spat the last word at her and shot ahead, pulling his wifebeater over his head in one smooth motion and dropping it into her lane.

_Oh, fuck. _Why hadn't she just worn a t-shirt and sweats? _Because you wanted to see if you could get him as hot as he got you. _Well, she couldn't really tell if he was turned on-but she definitely was. Her hungry gaze darted over his defined shoulders, the indentation of his spine, the slight jut of his hipbones, the play of his lean muscles as they stretched and contracted with every step he took.

"Now who's staring?" He'd turned around and was running backwards, his lip curling in amusment. Rukia did her best to keep her eyes on his face, but they kept straying down, past the solid column of his neck, the flare of his collarbones, down to-_Get ahold of yourself, Kuchiki! _She felt a trickle of sweat run down her spine and suddenly knew exactly how she could win their little game...

**XXX**


	10. A Nice Little Visit

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, FIFA, the AFC, Mercedes Benz, or anything else famous/mainstream mentioned within this fiction de fan. **

**Author's Note:**

**1) Yes, I am killing Kira off, and no, I'm not that sad about it...**

**2) ...but to show I am just a little bit sorry, get ready for...ISSHIN KUROSAKI!! (and some more fluffiness ;) **

**3)...Happy reading!**

_Hmm, I know how to win this._ Rukia felt a smile blossoming on her face as she put on a burst of speed to catch up to the orange-haired footballer, who was still running backwards, still smirking at the fact he'd just caught her checking him out. She slowed her pace and came to a stop right infront of him. He watched her warily, but kept running backwards, keeping his eyes on her face as if trying to figure out just what she was up to.

"Just remember, you started this, Kurosaki," she whispered. Rukia lifted her hand to the left strap of her sports bra, watching as his eyes tracking it's movement. She slid her hand under the strap and slid it off her shoulder, a satisfied smile splitting her face when she heard a hitch in his breathing. She moved closer, tilting her head back as she lifted her other hand-

_There's no way this is happening. _Ichigo wet his lips, barely able to breathe from the anticipation he felt knotting inside him. There was no way she was actually going to take her bra off-

His foot caught, and Ichigo felt himself falling. Wham! He grunted as his ass hit the tarmac, but if he was expecting any help from Rukia, he was sorely disappointed. The bitch actually started running faster, as if that had been her plan all along-

_Idiot. _Of course that had been her plan all along. Ichigo jumped to his feet and started sprinting desperately, but of course he was too late.

_Ohhhhhhh, shit. She lapped me. _Ichigo couldn't help whimpering as the tiny monster strode towards him, clenching her hand into a fist with a triumphant grin.

**XXX**

_That was almost too easy. _The killer frowned as they tucked the newest Polaroid into their coat pocket. The officer and Kira had even been in the same room, which the killer had thought a delicious twist, but to thier vast disappointment, the officer hadn't stirred at all. _Ah well. At least they'll have a nice suprise when they wake up. _The killer snickered to himself, then heard his name. Could it be? Had someone-

"Hey, can I have your autograph?"

"Of course," the killer replied, scrawling their name across their face on the glossy ten by twelve the boy handed to them. As the child scampered off, the killer laughed at their earlier fears.

_As if. They'll never catch me._ The killer leaned their head against the subway window, closed their eyes, and fell asleep.

**XXX**

"Good morning, beautiful."

Kenpachi leaned over Tatsuki to kiss her on her cheek before moving back as her eyes fluttered open. She blinked as if trying to focus them, then smiled. _Holy shneike, what a gorgeous thing to wake up to. _Instead of being spiked, Kenpachi's hair was falling around his face, brushing his shoulders, making Tatsuki wonder if it was as soft as it looked. _Only one way to find out. _She reached up and stroked her fingers through the surprisingly silky strands. His eyepatch was also missing, which softened his entire face. The way he held himself above her made his forearms stick out in sharp relief, and Tatsuki studied them appreciatively. _What a stud._

"Good morning, yourself," she smiled, then tucked a hand behind his neck, wrapping it in his hair to pull him down for a slow, lingering kiss.

"Mmm, I think I like your version better," he murmured, dropping a kiss on her nose before leaning backwards once more. He couldn't help the stupid grin that took over his mouth as he gazed down at the sleep-rumpled seductress. Her hair had flattened over the night, and while it still stuck up, its state of disarray was both entirely disarming and wholly seductive. From what Kenpachi could see, she was wearing an oversize t-shirt as a nightgown, but he couldn't-and didn't-want to imagine her in anything else. Weird, he knew...but right now he was imagining it was _his _t-shirt, and that's what made it so sexy...

"Is that so? Well, I happen to like both of them," she informed him gravely, resting a hand on each of his forearms, digging her fingers in to pull herself up to a sitting position. "Where's Yachiru?"

"Her nanny came to take her to kindergarten," Kenpachi answered, "Which means we have the apartment all to ourselves..."

"Is that so?" She repeated, a dimple flashing in her cheek. Kenpachi just couldn't resist leaning forward to press a kiss to it as well.

"Mmm-hmm."

"Well, in that case," she yawned, "I'm going back to sleep. G'night."

"You're only allowed to do that if I get to sleep with you," Kenpachi teased, headbutting her in the chest until she flopped back against the bed.

Tatsuki considered again. "Well...somehow I get the feeling we wouldn't be doing much sleeping, Mr. Zaraki," she said sternly. "So I can't see how I would allow-"

"Tatsuki?"

"Kenpachi?" she mocked.

"Shut up and kiss me."

**XXX**

Uryuu was in that blissful sub-concious state, right before you wake up, where you can still dream but you know everything you're dreaming...and right now that was the only place he wanted to be, because he was dreaming his was in his wife's arms, far away from the stark reality of the world, cocooned from-

_Blood. _He recognized the smell, on virtue of smelling it so many times before. The very first time, he'd been a rookie, sent in to collect the parts of a dismembered serial killer's third victim. He'd been violently ill that time, and quite a few times after that, but now, a certain numbness descended and although his stomach would flip, he no longer had the ability to feel completely disgusted by it. _If I'm smelling blood it means-_

"Oh, god. Kira? Kira! Kira!! Oh God, NO!"

**XXX**

"Welp, here we are." Ichigo drove the Benz beside the curb and bumped the gear shift into park.

"Ok," Rukia said, opening her door and studying the little building as Ichigo walked around the side of the car. A big blue sign proudly declared, "Kurosaki Clinic." Although not very big, the building looked homey and inviting. She started towards the door under the sign, but Ichigo grabbed her hand and dragged her over beside him. "Front door's this way," he pointed to a door set aways back from the main part of the building.

"Oh," Rukia said, feeling dumb. "Sorry." For some stupid reason, she felt nervous and tense.

"No problem," Ichigo shrugged, pulling off his aviators and dropping them into his shirt pocket. "Don't forget what I said about my old man," he warned her.

"Ok," Rukia nodded, but she let her expression show her skepticism. Ichigo had told her that his father was "completely perverted", but she didn't know whether he'd been stringing her a line or not. _Ichigo must be exaggerating. No one could be that perverted, except for _him, she scoffed as she followed him to the door. Just as Ichigo raised his hand to knock, Rukia sensed something wasn't right. She whipped out her gun and leaped infront of her charge as the door flew open and something black haired flew out-right into the muzzle of her gun.

"Don't move a muscle," she clipped out, sliding the muzzle up from the man's stomach to the center of his heart. "If you so much as breathe, I'll-"

"Hey, Rukia," Ichigo's laughter echoed behind her. _What the hell is the idiot laughing about!?_

"I'd like you to meet my father, Kurosaki Isshin. Dad, meet my bodyguard, Detective Kuchiki."

_This freak is Ichigo's FATHER?!_

**XXX**

_I guess I owe Ichigo an apology. _Rukia sighed as the senior Kurosaki blabbed on about how very _excited _he was that Ichigo had 'scored' a female bodyguard! Were they sleeping in the same bed yet? Oh, how he'd like to have some grandchildren with such a _unusual _eye colour! Was Ichigo being hospitable? Had he seen her naked?

"Does it ever stop?" Rukia muttered under her breath.

"Nope," murmured Ichigo back, watching his old man cross over to the huge poster of his mother that covered the far wall, sobbing out the "glorious news" with his hands stretched across the front of it.

"I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

"You should have!" Ichigo growled. "I told you we should've just called! But no, Little Miss Thorough has to go converse with the actual people-"

"Trouble in paradise, my son?" Isshin popped up beside him and whacked him on the back of the head. "That's no way to talk to your future wife!"

_He has us married off already?!_ _This has gone too far._ "Um, excuse me, Mr. Kurosaki," Rukia said as sweetly as she could manage, "I'm already married."

"Already! Well, my son, you sure move fast!" Isshin said, slapping Ichigo hard enough to make him stumble. He turned to Rukia with a huge grin on his face. "Please tell me you had a wonderful honeymoon! Perhaps there's already one in the oven, eh?" He pinched her stomach, then turned to look his wife's poster once more. "Did you hear that, Masaki? We are finally going to be-"

"Will you shut up already!" Ichigo yelled. "She didn't mean that _we're_," he gestured wildly between the both of them, "already married, she meant that _she's _already married. To someone else," he added.

"To a girl, in fact," Rukia interjected quickly as Isshin's mouth opened, "I'm a lesbian. So you see, Mr. Kurosaki-"

"Oh, that's alright then!" He let out a huge breath. "That doesn't count my dear, and when you come to your senses, Ichigo will be waiting-"

Wham! Ichigo hit his father in the face without warning. "I said, shut the hell up already!" He yelled as Isshin huddled on the floor, moaning. "What the hell makes you think I'm ready to get married, anyways? I'm only 21, for fuck's sake!"

"Dad wants to marry us all off, doncha know?" came an amused voice from the doorway. "I think he planned Yuzu's wedding just yesterday, didncha, you crazy ol' goat?"

Rukia turned towards the owner of the voice and was suprised to see two girls outlined in the doorway. The one that was talking had short black hair, and the one beside her had a light brown that was also short, but in a much more feminine cut than that of her companion's.

"Hey, Karin, hey Yuzu," Ichigo said, smiling for the first time since he'd seen his father.

"Hi, Ichigo," Karin, the black haired girl, nodded, while Yuzu, the brown haired one, came flying towards him.

"Ichi-nii!" she yelled. "I missed you!"

"You silly girl, I was just here a week and a half ago." Ichigo scolded, but hugged the girl anyways. "Karin, Yuzu," he began, "I'd like you to meet my protector, Kuchiki Rukia."

Both girls said hello, Yuzu's somewhat more enthusiastic than Karin's.

"Detective Kuchiki, these are my sisters, Karin, and Yuzu."

"I'm pleased to meet you," Rukia said with a smile.

"So am I," Karin intoned dryly, "seeing as you're the first girl that Ichi's brought home who had the foresight to pull a gun on the ol' man."

Rukia glanced over at the wall, where Isshin was frantically stroking the poster of his wife and sobbing something about how none of his children respected him, and oh how he wished he was by her side in death...

"Well, he scared me," she shrugged. "I thought for a second that Ichigo was in danger, so I just reacted."

"Well it was cool," replied Karin. "I wish someone had thought of doing it before, it was the first time I've ever seen him shut up for more than a minute."

"Karin, you're so awful!" Yuzu cried. "Poor dad!"

"Yes, poor me!" Isshin rejoined the group. "Poor Isshin, destined to die without grandchildren from his ungrateful son-"

Rukia's cellphone chose that exact moment to ring. _Thank heaven for technology. _Rukia flipped the phone open. Renji. She held her finger up and stepped away.

"Kuchiki."

"Hey, Ruki, there's been another murder."

She sucked in a breath, then checked to see if Ichigo was listening. He wasn't, so she felt it was safe to ask, "Who, Renji?"

"Ishida's charge, Izuru Kira," came the terse reply.

"How's Uryuu taking it?"

"Not well. You know how he is," Renji asserted grimly. "Anyways, I gotta run, but Ukitake says we're having a team meeting-he wants us AND all the football players there. So if you could call Tatsuki and pass the message along-"

"Sure thing, Renji...where's the meeting?"

"Urahara's house. Do you need directions?"

"Nope," Rukia looked over at Ichigo, who was glancing at her with hope lighting his face. "I think we'll manage."

"Ok, well, I'm out. See you at the meeting."

"Bye," she said, flipping the phone shut with a decisive click. "Ichigo, I'm terribly sorry to tear you away from your family," she lied through her teeth, "But we've gotta go. Police emergency, and he'll be safer with me," she replied to Isshin's two unspoken questions. "It was nice to meet you all."

"You too, my future daughter in law!" Isshin shouted after them as they tore out of the house. "Come back soon!"

_No thank you, _Rukia jumped into the Benz. "Urahara's house, now," she snarled, "and step on it."

"Yes, ma'am," Ichigo said, the Benz's tires shrieking as he peeled out onto the road. "But will you tell me what happened?"

"Just drive," sighed Rukia. "You'll know soon enough."

**XXX**


	11. Interruption

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. I don't own FIFA, the AFC, or anything that corresponds with them. I don't own Mercedes Benz, or the name "Cannon of Asia". **

**Author's Note: **

**1). I am SO SO SO sorry it's taken me this long to update, but let me just say, this chapter was really hard to write for some reason...the bitch just didn't want to be written!...so I want to say I'm sorry, again...and I'd promise that it'll never happen again...but I don't know if I could uphold that...:**

**2) ...and watch out for the lemony-ness! (Be warned; I'll try not to be **_**too**_** explicit, but I make no guarantees...this fiction IS rated M for a reason... :P)**

**3) But enough! Chapter 11, here we go!**

_Thank God. _Kenpachi moaned as Tatsuki sat up again, closed her eyes and obeyed him when he told her to kiss him, moving her lips over his in the barest brush of a kiss. Kenpachi slowly tackled her back onto the bed, resting on his side beside her, afraid he'd crush her if he lay on top of her. He was constantly in awe of how much smaller than him she was. He pulled back from their kiss, enjoying the way her mouth fell open as she sighed, and how slow she was to open her eyes, as if she was savoring the moment, storing it for later. He slid his one hand between her head and the pillow,pushing his fingers through her hair to cradle her skull in his hand. His other hand made its way down her body, sliding over her waist down to curl itself over her hip. Even with his palm resting against her hipbone, his fingers were long enough he could almost cup her ass. He tightened his fingers on her derriere and pulled her closer to him, lowering his head to taste her yet again-

_Bigger _IS _better._ That was the only thought running through Tatsuki's head as Kenpachi's hands cradled her body. His hands were so big, the one holding her head was almost cupping her entire skull, and with his palm resting on her hip, his long fingers almost spanned her entire ass cheek. When he tightened his hand on her ass and pulled her closer to him, Tatsuki's eyes flew open-but then closed again almost immediately when their lips met. She couldn't help moaning when he started kneading her ass, his thumb drawing lazy figure eights just above her hip at the same time. _He's driving me crazy. _When his tongue gently entered her mouth, Tatsuki welcomed it, enjoying the slow, soft way he explored, without simply thrusting in and out.

_I don't think I'll ever get enough of her. _Kenpachi groaned as Tatsuki bumped her pelvis against him, her mouth opening wider to receive his deepening kiss. He could feel himself growing hard, but he wasn't sure if that was something he wanted Tatsuki to feel just yet, so he moved her body back from his in the same way he'd drawn it closer, dragging his teeth over her lower lip as his mouth left hers.

"Where do you think you're going, Mr. Zaraki?" the vixen inquired, touching the tip of her tongue to her lower lip, which was now slightly puffy from the abrasion of his teeth.

"I'm just givin' you a little space," he replied.

"What if I don't want it?" retorted Tatsuki cheekily, pushing on his shoulder to knock him onto his back, then sitting up and swinging her leg over him, so she was straddling him. She tilted her head as she slid her hands underneath the edges of his shirt, which she'd unbuttoned while they'd been kissing. Kenpachi hadn't even noticed.

"Well then," his mouth went dry at the speculative gleam in her eyes, "Get as close as ya want, then..."

Tatsuki simply smiled, the lust that had overtaken her body clouding her brain, rendering her incapable of further speech. The position she was in had her sex situated directly above Kenpachi's, and she could feel that particular part of him was just as big and hard as the rest of him. _Yum. _Her fingers, in their exploration of his-_oh, so magnificent_-chest, found his tiny nipples and she tugged one gently, laughing as Kenpachi growled at her. He lifted his hand to cup her cheek, stroking his thumb along it, then rested the other on her waist, sliding it lower as she began to tease his nipples in earnest.

Tatsuki jerked as his hand slid down to her thigh, his thumb bumping against her clit through her shorts and panties while he arched his hips to press his length against her opening. She rolled her hips over him, smirking in pure female satisfaction as his eyes rolled back into his head with the feel of her dampness against him.

"Tatsuki?" croaked Kenpachi, his hand sliding from her face back to her waist, his fingers tightening spasmodically as she ground against him.

"Yes?"

"I want...I need...I-'

"Yes, Kenpachi?" She rolled his nipple between her fingers, pinching it lightly.

"I want y-"

It was right in that moment that her phone decided to ring furiously.

_Fuck technology. _Tatsuki leaned across Kenpachi to grab her phone, flipping it open impatiently. "It's Rukia," she informed the footballer with a sigh. "I'd better answer it."

"Answer it then," he smiled mischeviously as she held the phone to her ear, waiting until she had barked her last name to circle his thumb over her clit lazily, laughing as she jerked, biting her lip to keep from letting out a moan. She swatted his hand away, and he stilled as she stiffened and all the colour drained from her face.

"You can't be serious," she said into the phone. "Ok, we'll be there momentarily." She closed the phone, tossed it on the bed, and pushed Kenpachi's hands off her body as she vaulted over him, heading for the closet.

"What's wrong? What happened?" He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, confusion inscribed on his features.

"There's been another murder," Tatsuki called as she disappeared into the washroom, clutching a handful of clothes.

"You're fuckin' kiddin'," Kenpachi grunted, falling back onto the bed with an angry moan. "Who?"

"Kira, and I only wish I was," Tatsuki said, re-emerging in a simple white dress shirt and grey tailored slacks, running a comb through her hair. "Both teams are meeting at Urahara's house, but the meeting's starting soon, so we'd better hurry."

"Yeah, let me get my shoes," frowned Kenpachi. "But when we get back, Detective?"

"Yes, Mr. Zaraki?" she teased.

"We're picking right up where we left off," He dropped his keys into his pocket.

"Fine by me," Tatsuki winked at him, then stepped into the hall.

**XXX**

Uryuu Ishida was so upset he could barely focus on the conversation taking place around him. When his eyes were closed, the moment he'd turned Kira over replayed in his head, like a scratched DVD bouncing back to the same moment over and over. When his eyes were open, all he saw was the teams he'd let down. Although everyone seemed sympathetic, he knew that some of them were secretly wondering what good he was, why yet another of their teammates had died when he was supposedly 'safe'-hell, even if none of them blamed him, he blamed himself. He'd let them down-all of them-

He closed his eyes, and saw Kira's bloodied face all over again, the deep gashes of torn flesh running lengthwise down the footballer's face, the torn strips hanging from his chin, his gaping eyeballs the only thing in his face that remained intact-the eyelids having been hacked off, lying god-knew-where in the pool of blood that fanned out from the body and now dripped onto the floor.

Uryuu felt himself spasm, but his brain had already registered the smell and previous experience with dead bodies prevented him from getting nauseous. His fingers shook as he paged first the forensics department, then Captain Ukitake...

**XXX**

"The time of death was estimated to be between 1:00 and 3:00 in the morning," Captain Ukitake droned. The football team had long since been asked to leave and were congregating in Urahara's living room, while the police contingent had remained in the dining room to discuss the gory details of the murder. Ukitate scanned the grim faces staring back at him before continuing, "Uryuu didn't find Kira until about an hour ago. Although the inital cause of death was the slitting of the throat, apparently the killer found it necessary to disfigure the rest of the body, in the exact same pattern as," Ukitake opened the brown manila folder and spread the glossies of the previous murder scenes infront of him, "Sousuke Aizen's and Chin Ichimaru's."

At the end of the table, Hanatarou Yamada eeped and made a beeline for the door, his face green, while his fellow rookie Nanao Ise merely tightened her lips into a flat line while pushing her glasses up her nose.

"Now," Ukitake continued, "the only possible link between the three murdered players is that they all were relatively close to," he paused to scan the faces of the team sitting infront of him, "Gin Ichimaru."

"So could he be the killer, then?" Renji asked.

"Well, he was the first suspect on my list," Ukitake returned, "except on the 19th, when Aizen was murdered, he was visiting a friend, who I already confirmed his alibi with, and the 24th, he called his elderly neighbours who had just returned from a trip at," Ukitake consulted his notebook, "around 7:30 to see if they wanted their mail brought over. The neighbour's wife says then that she saw Gin's silhouette in the window and that he often reads a couple of hours at night, and that he didn't move from his apartment for the next three hours...Chin Ichimaru was found dead in his apartment the following morning by the maid, and the time of death was estimated to be between 8 and 9 the previous evening." Ukitake coughed. "I also checked Ichimaru's room about every hour last night, and he was there the entire time. So I think it's safe to say we can cross him off our list."

Nanao cleared her throat. "Do you think the murders are related to the player's relationships with Gin Ichimaru, Captain? Or do you just think that they could be a coincidence?"

"I'm not sure," Ukitake acknowledged grimly. "I will do more investigating to see if anyone has it in for him, because it's quite possible that they could be targeting the players that were closest to him. In the meantime," he fixed every officer around the table with a grim stare, "stick as close to your assigned players as you can, but keep your relationship as professional as possible. Ask them if they have any enemies, and if you can, see if any of them had in in for Gin, find out who does and who doesn't get along with him. Coach Urahara has confirmed that there _will _be practice tommorrow," Ukitake concluded with a slight smile, "so be ready to meet again tommorrow morning. You're all free to go...except you, Uryuu," he said over the scraping of chairs as the other officers took their leave. "You stay right where you are."

**XXX**


	12. Another Chance

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. I don't own FIFA, the AFC, or Mercedes Benz, or Ray Ban.**

**Author's Note:**

**1) Well, as penance for making all you that enjoy this fic de fan I'm writing wait so long, I'm gonna TRY to update as many chapters as I can this week...**

**2) ...with the goal being to finish this fiction by the end of April...**

**3) Let's hope I can do it! As always, thank you for reading, and thanks to all you guys who wrote me reviews! Here's Chapter 12, happy reading! :)**

Uryuu gulped and stood up slowly. "Yes, Captain Ukitake?"

"Ishida, I talked to Inspector Kuchiki this morning, and he said-"

Uryuu hung his head. He knew what was coming-

Ukitake cleared his throat. "He said that if you want to, you may stay on this protective contingent until the assignment is completed."

_What?!_ Uryuu's head flew up, his eyes and mouth wide open with disbelief. "S-sir," he stuttered. "What-why..."

Ukitake sighed. "Inspector Kuchiki and I both agree that the murder wasn't your fault, Detective Ishida. It would be completely asinine to punish you for something that was beyond your control, plus," he continued, rising to his feet and collecting the folders infront of him into a neat pile, "you, I, and he all know that _not _having you on this case would only be a detriment-"

"Oh, I don't know about that, Captain," interrupted a voice from the doorway. "Seems to me he's already proved that statement wrong."

**XXX**

"Man, I hope Uryuu's ok," Rukia drew her eyebrows together as she frowned up at Renji.

"I don't know, Ruki," Renji sighed and glanced at the closed door. "We can only hope that Captain Ukitake and your brother aren't too harsh with him; you can tell that Uryuu's already beating himself up over the whole thing."

"I hope they don't kick him off the case," Rukia mused. "We could definitely use his logicking skills in figuring out who the culprit is. No one can think or theorize like Uryuu can."

"You and I both know that," agreed Renji. "But does the Captain and Byakuya?"

Rukia opened her mouth to respond, but then closed it shut abruptly as a certain orange haired football star materialized at her side.

"Ready to go?" Ichigo spun his keys around his finger, using the other hand to pull out his aviators, flip them open and slide them back onto his face.

"Did you double-check what time practice is tomorrow?" Rukia returned, "Because I really don't feel like waiting around for your ass for an extra hour again."

"It's at 5:30 tomorrow morning," Ichigo informed her with mock solemnity, watching her face flush warily. He stepped back

"What THE FUCK is wrong with your coach?!"

**XXX**

Uryuu turned his head towards the doorway, his eyes meeting an icy teal gaze. He watched warily as the owner of the voice pushed off the doorjamb where he'd been leaning, arms crossed, and sauntered into the room with a condescending sneer.

"Who the hell are you," scowled Ukitake.

"Hitsugaya Toushiro," the young man sketched a bow, then flopped down into the seat beside Ukitake, studying Uryuu while Uryuu studied him back.

_So THIS is the owner of the Japanese football team? _Uryuu couldn't say anything about the insolent punk impressed him. A shock of white hair, spiked every which way, covered the youth's head. He was wearing a white polo and slim black slacks, with a pair of what Uryuu was sure were RayBans tucked into the pocket of his shirt. The 22 year old wasn't very tall, barely reaching to Uryuu's shoulder when he stood up. _It's ironic that the man who has the tenth biggest paycheck in Japan is also the smallest man I've ever seen. _Behind Toushiro's studied air of nonchalance, however, Uryuu could see a great deal of intelligence lay in his bright eyes. There had to be, of course. One didn't go directly from highschool to being one of the richest men in the country without it, now did they?

The short writeup that had been included in the original debriefing had noted that the youth had been a whiz at statistics and had a genius IQ, as proved by how the young man had predicted and manipulated the stock markets to amass his fortune in only four years. Hitsugaya seemed to have only one weakness, as noted by the writeup, which was Momo Hinamori, a childhood friend-

"But it's not important who I am," the tycoon was saying. "I'm much more interested in knowing who you are. Captain Ukitake, and Detective Ishida, I presume?"

"Yes, that's us," barked Ukitake, the scowl becoming even more pronounced. "What can I do for you, Hitsugaya?"

"Nothing, really," replied Hitsugaya. "I only wished to sit in on this meeting to make sure that you fellas have my team's wellbeing in mind...in which case, I'm wondering why," his eyes and voice turned cold, "you are keeping a player that failed to perform on _your _team, Captain."

Jyuushiro stood up abruptly, but evened his tone to match the other man's. "Quite simply, Mr. Hitsugaya, Detective Ishida is one of," he cleared his throat, "if not the best, detective that we could have on this case. Detective Ishida has played a major role in almost 80 of our solved cases, and both the inspector and I," Ukitake's voice hardened as he passed by the owner's chair, "believe that this murder will give Uryuu even more incentive and an even bigger passion to find the killer and have them brought to justice, making your case solved that much faster and your football team that much safer...and if you have a problem with that," He bit out, turning as he reached the door, "you can take it up with Inspector Kuchiki."

"Well, well," Hitsugaya chuckled, turning back to Ishida, the mirth falling away suddenly. "What do you think about all this, Detective Ishida? Should I give you a second chance?"

Uryuu swallowed. "I-I don't know, sir."

"Neither do I," responded the youth gravely. "Which is why I think I am crazy for doing this," he shook his head, "but I am giving to you the duty of protecting one of my very own favorites, Nova, as a replacement for Kira." Hitsugaya stood up and walked around the table, stopping just in front of Uryuu. "Ishida? I may call you Ishida, right?"

"Yes, sir. Of course." Uryuu felt a trickle of sweat run down his face that he only dared wipe away when the silver haired genius stepped around him to exit the room.

"Don't fuck it up this time," Hitsugaya called over his shoulder as he vanished.

**XXX**


	13. Things Heat Up

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, the AFC, FIFA, Mercedes Benz, or anything else famous.**

**Author's Note: **

**1). Last chapter was kinda short, but I'm having problems trying to figure out where exactly this is going...so bear with me...**

**2). And this chapter will DEFINITELY contain some IchiRuki, to make up for the fact that last one didn't...!**

**3). ...And some Ken/Tat, because...well, because I can. And I like the way they relate ;)...**

**4). As always, thank you for reading, and enjoy! :)**

"So," Ichigo leaned forward in the recliner, propping his arms on his knees, "...were you lying before?"

"Hmmm?" Rukia murmured from where she sprawled on the couch, not bothering to look at him.

"I said, were you lying before? To my dad?"

"Lying about what?" Rukia turned to the footballer in confusion.

"When you said you were a lesbian..." Ichigo prompted, cleared his throat, then added, "and married."

"What are you, an idiot?" Rukia held her left hand up and touched her third finger. "I'm obviously not married. And obviously not a lesbian, either."

Ichigo coughed, but it sounded more like a skeptical _uhm-hum_ to Rukia's ears. She sat straight up and huffed indignantly. "What, do I look like one or something?"

"No," Ichigo shrugged, settling back into the chair with challenge etching itself across his amber eyes, treating himself to a leisurely scan of her body, then refixated his gaze on the TV. "You just, uh, dress like one, that's all."

"What!?" Rukia glared at him. " Now that's stretching it, Kurosaki.I do NOT dress like a dyke!"

"Oh, c'mon, Detective Kuchiki," his voice dripped condescension. "Look at what you're wearing."

"What's wrong with it?" Rukia looked down. True, she'd chosen her tan slacks and cream blouse with the words functionality and durability in mind, and the cut was admittedly unflattering, but they didn't make her look like a dyke, did they? She looked into the footballer's eyes, which reflected amusement, and realised he was TRYING to piss her off.

"Maybe I like looking sexless, Kurosaki," she spat back. "There's no part in my job description that says I have to look like a sex bomb 24/7."

"No, but isnt there something that says you should at least look your gender?" He called over his shoulder laughingly as he stood up.

_He doesn't think I look like a woman? _For some reason, his last jab hit Rukia harder than she would've liked it to. All through highschool and college, Rukia had been painfully aware of her almost total lack of curves compared to friends such as Orihime, or even Tatsuki. She'd only recently just got over her 'inferiority complex', if she could call it that, but she still felt a little insecure every once in a while. She didn't know why Ichigo's remark made-_well, fuck_-she did know why Ichigo's comment made all the insecurity come rushing back.

_You just wanted him to want you back. All that stuff from this morning was a joke to him, you idiot. You actually thought he was serious? _How could Ichigo Kurosaki, the 'Cannon of Asia', who dated women such as the voluptuous actress Senna, want someone as straight-lined and flat as her? Just then, Ichigo turned to look at her, surprised that she hadn't delivered a scathing comeback, but with her guard down, Rukia couldn't think of anything to say besides 'Shut up, Kurosaki', and even that didn't come out as forcefully as she wanted it to. The only thing left for her to do was escape.

**XXX**

_Whoa, what just happened? _Clack. The door to Rukia's room shut quietly behind her, leaving Ichigo staring down the hall in bewilderment. He'd been expecting some burning retort, a punch in the stomach, anything but the barely audible 'shut up' and her withdrawal from the room.

_Ichigo, you asshole._ It'd only been for a second, but the flash of pain that across those violet eyes before she'd fled the room told Ichigo he'd hit a nerve. He blew out a breath and pushed a hand through his hair. _What now? _He should apologize, but he felt too guilty for just a simple "I'm sorry."

"Ah, shit," he groaned and picked up the phone.

**XXX**

Tatsuki barely had time to squeak out one word-("Yachiru?") before Kenpachi growled something about her being at her nanny's for the night and pushed her up against the door, his handling of her falling just short of rough. Tatsuki wasn't complaining, though. Deciding that he didn't quite like the angle he had to crane his neck to reach hers, Kenpachi hoisted her suddenly, Tatsuki's legs wrapping instinctively around his waist, her fingers tangling in his hair as his own hands gripped her ass. He nudged aside the collar of her shirt to once again sink his teeth into the soft stretch of skin just above her collarbone, her shocked "Oh!" causing him to lave the now-tender area with his tongue.

"Like that?" he murmured, his mouth still against her neck. Tatsuki frowned, her attempts at unbuttoning his shirt not working because of how much higher she was then him.

"Put me-ah, Oh, God-down." When Kenpachi didn't immediatly follow her directive, she tugged on his hair to pull his mouth away from her neck. "I said, put me down."

"Whatever for?" He grinned down at her, quite satisfied with the hickey he'd left that only the high collar of a tshirt would cover. When she squirmed as if to shimmy down him, he only tightened his grip on her ass and pulled her back up against his chest.

"So I can get this," she tugged on the collar of his shirt, "Off you. Now."

"Ohhhhh," he laughed, but when she only frowned at him, Kenpachi shrugged. "As you wish." But instead of putting her on the floor like she was expecting him to, the footballer shifted her higher against him and walked with her to his bedroom, depositing her unceremoniously on his bed before following her down. He braced himself above her with one hand beside her shoulder, his knees bracketing her hips as he slipped the other hand behind her neck to pull her head up to his.

_Damn, but his kisses just get better every time._ Tatsuki's chuckle turned into a sigh as Kenpachi gently buffed his lips across hers, before sliding his tongue across her bottom lip, tempting her to open to him, a temptation which she gladly fell into. With their lips thus occupied, Tatsuki set her hands to their original purpose, her fingers nimbly flying from button to button until she had his shirt open. She sat up, pushing Kenpachi backwards so he was kneeling above her legs, pushing his shirt down his shoulders and off his arms before she lay back down beneath him.

"Much better," she murmured, letting her hands and eyes roam where they willed on the massive expanse of corded muscle she'd just revealed. Kenpachi moaned as she found his nipple and began playing with it in the same way she'd been earlier.

"Your turn, Miss Arisawa," he growled, dropping his head to nuzzle her chin with his nose, nibbling on it before his mouth moved to her neck, then down to-the first button of her shirt?!

_There's no way he can-_Tatsuki watched in amazement as Kenpachi gripped the button between his teeth and slowly worked it out from its hole, her hands stilling against his chest. _Holy shneike. _He undid all six buttons of her blouse using just his mouth, until finally he got to the last one, nudging the edges of her shirt away. He rested his chin just below her belly button and looked up at her playfully. "Impressed?"

"Very much so," she giggled. "Now why don't you put that clever mouth of yours to good use, up here where it _really _belongs." She tapped her own mouth with a finger. Kenpachi dropped a kiss to her stomach and slid back up to reclaim her mouth. Tatsuki slid her hands up his sides and over his shoulders, gliding them down his arms, reveling in the feel of the leashed power she could feel in every cord. She felt Kenpachi's hand leave her neck to do some exploring of its own, his index finger trailing down her collarbone to trace the edge of her bra from right to left, before he found the clasp in the middle and fumbled with it for a couple seconds-

Until it popped open, and the cups fell away from her breasts. Kenpachi pulled back to watch, his throat rumbling appreciatively. _Damn, Arisawa's packin'._ He watched as her nipples slowly puckered, from the cold air or his stare, he wasn't quite sure, but he had to say he enjoyed the sight. He leaned his head down to capture one impertinent nipple-but stopped abruptly when a sharp pain on his scalp told him that Miss Arisawa would rather have him kissing her mouth than her tit.

"You can get to those later," she informed him, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she pulled his mouth-and his entire body-down ontop of hers, both letting out a gasp as his naked chest came in contact with hers...

**XXX**

"Rukia? It's me. Please open up."

Rukia stared at the door, debating only brieflly before sighing and walking over to it.

"Yea, Kurosaki?" she sighed, only opening it wide enough to stick her head out and nothing more.

Ichigo took in her slightly puffy eyes and felt a strange tightening in his stomach. _She's been crying. You really are something, Kurosaki._

"Here," he said, pulling his hands out from behind his back, holding a colourful gift bag out to her.

"What IS it?" Rukia frowned, but opened the door wider and half-stepped out to take it from him.

"My way of saying I'm sorry," Ichigo replied. "You didn't deserve that, uh, comment I made."

"Ok..," Rukia leaned against the doorframe and opened the bag. Inside was a...CHAPPY TOY!

She wasn't aware she'd yelled it out loud until she looked up and saw Ichigo wincing, one hand covering the ear closest to her.

"Uh, thank you," she said gruffly, but she couldn't quite hide her smile. "Uh, how-how did, you, um..."

"Know?" supplied Ichigo. "I called Renji and asked him what the best way to apologize to you would be. Look at it's paw," he continued.

Rukia edged unfolded the plush's arm from where it was clasping something to it's chest-a little chocolate foot?! "What-"

"Read it."

She turned it over. The little paper on the other side read, _That's what's in my mouth right about now._ Rukia laughed, then looked up to the footballer's rueful expression. She stepped out of the room slowly, so she was standing just beside the much taller footballer.

"You've suprised me, Kurosaki."

_So have you. _Ichigo felt his eyeballs bulging out with shock at the outfit little Detective Kuchiki was wearing. All the blood in his head was going down, down down, when he needed it to be up, up, up-_NOT YOU, up! _He yelled at his (clearly NOT listening) little Ichigo. _Oh yes, me,_ his dick replied.

A smaller-than-small mini skirt hugged her hips, ending just beneath where her ass did, showcasing those slim, shapely legs that NO woman that short had any business having, Ichigo reminded himself. Her bright red top was tight around her breasts, but then spurted out into an empire waist, with the bottom of the flowy shirt hitting an inch above the band of her skirt, displaying a strip of smooth, pale skin that Ichigo found himself wanting to run his tongue along-

That's when he noticed the gun tucked into the back of her skirt. _Oh thank God._ _That is why you can't_-But instead of thinking about how dangerous a woman Rukia was, Ichigo found himself wondering what it would be like to replace that gun with his hand, get to feel what he already knew was a magnificent ass-

"...so I've decided to forgive you," Rukia continued, only then noticing Ichigo's slightly glazed expression. "Kurosaki? Are you listening to me?"

"No," he admitted, then took a step forward, making Rukia back up against the (now closed) door to her room.

"Kurosaki, what are you doing?" That couldn't be what she thought she was seeing in his eyes-

"Shoot me," he croaked. "For saying what I said earlier, because it was the damn stupidest thing I've ever said," he swallowed convulsively and stared heat all down her body, "or for what I'm about to do-"

"What?!" Rukia shrieked, but the footballer already had her back to the door and there was nowhere for her to go.

"Too late," Ichigo whispered, and lowered his mouth to hers.

**XXX**


	14. Frustration

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, the name "Cannon of Asia", FIFA, or the AFC, or anything else famous.**

**Author's Note:**

**1). Haha. I bet you all hate me for ending last chapter that way, but...it was getting long!**

**2) ...and if you don't hate me for **_**that,**_** you probably hate me for making you wait so long...I will try to be better this week and update at least 2 chapters...and I'm sorry, once again... :( **

**3) I don't really have anything else to say, so...Chapter 14!**

Rukia didn't really know what had happened. One second, Ichigo had told her to shoot him, and the next he had her backed up against the door with his lips on hers-

_Oh my God. Is he-he's not-yes, he is-he's kissing me!_

And doing a damn good job of it, too. He'd started off lightly, but when Rukia didn't back away he'd pressed his lips more firmly against hers, tilting his head to settle them into a more comfortable fit. At first, Rukia'd been too surprised to do anything, but after about a minute of Ichigo's gentle coaxing, she'd begun-much to her amazement-to kiss him back. In Rukia's mind, there were only two kinds of kissers-those that knew how to kiss, and those that didn't. She'd been kissed enough by both groups to know that Ichigo definitely belonged to the first, which, if she was honest, was a pleasant shock. She'd expected his kiss to be much like him; brash, arrogant, and intrusive-but it was quite the opposite.

He hadn't touched her at first either, but now he was pinning her wrists gently against the wall, as if he was scared she'd take him up on his offer and go for her gun.

_Which you should._ Who the hell did Kurosaki think he was? Only an hour ago, he told her she didn't even look female, for fuck's sake, and now-now he was kissing her?! What sort of bullshit game was he trying to play? Rukia lifted her hands from the wall where he had them pinned with the intention of pushing him away-but as soon as her hands touched his chest, as soon as Rukia felt all that defined muscle pushing back against her fingers-she knew that she was gone. She spread her fingers wide and slid one hand down from his chest to his stomach, the feel of all those bumps and ridges beneath her palm nearly making her moan...

As soon as he felt Rukia stiffen, Ichigo knew that his time was short. He himself tensed, waiting for Rukia to push him away, expecting to feel either pain in his solar plexus or cold metal against his nose, completely unprepared for when she curved one hand over his pec while sliding the heel of her other hand down his stomach. He made a sound low in his throat and brought his hand up to frame her face. The other hand he pushed against the small of her back, bringing her petite body closer to his, pleased when she pressed her body into his and wound her arms around him, bringing him closer still. Ichigo took the invitation, using his body to press her back against the door more firmly.

Rukia purred as Ichigo pressed her against the door, enjoying the feel of him pressed up against her-_Oh my god._ If that was what she thought it was pressing into her stomach, she was _impressed. _She whimpered as Ichigo slid his hand from her neck down and around her body to join the other one where it was pressed against her back, and then moved that hand lower still-

_Rukia, you idiot! _What if Ichigo was the killer? He could be using the kiss to distract her, and just be waiting for the moment she let her guard down! Rukia unwound her arms from Ichigo's neck, and reached behind her to rest one hand on his briefly before sliding it down further to grip the handle of her gun.

_Second base, here I come. _Ichigo felt himself smirking as he broke their kiss and put his mouth to Rukia's neck-

Only to feel a cold hardness pressed against his chin.

"That's quite enough, Kurosaki." Rukia dug the muzzle deeper into the footballer's chin, waiting only until his hands had fallen away from her body and he'd backed a few feet away to lower her gun cautiously, keeping her eyes glued to him.

Ichigo licked his lips. _Yum. _He'd been right. The little police officer _did_ taste as good as she looked. _Too bad I only got a snack, instead of the full meal. _Rukia watched him warily as her gun lowered, and Ichigo eyed her hungrily, wishing she would just drop the damn thing so-

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Huh?"

"Are you stupid? I said, why did you kiss me!?" Rukia shouted.

"Because I wanted to..?" Ichigo supplied.

"Thought you thought I was 'sexless', strawberry," Rukia raised an eyebrow tauntingly as she tucked the gun back into the back of her skirt, feeling an odd sense of satisfaction at Ichigo's seeming fascination with how the movement of her arms behind her caused her breasts to push forwards against her shirt.

"Don't call me that," he purred dangerously, narrowing his eyes at her. "So now that we know I'm attracted to you," he blew out a breath and rested his hands on his hips, "what happens next, Miss Kuchiki?"

"Nothing, I'm going to bed..," Rukia noted Ichigo's expression and felt compelled to add, "alone, Kurosaki."

"Did I say anything?" He glared at her smug expression as she picked up his gift and started back into her room.

"You didn't have to, Kurosaki. Your _friend_," she giggled as she stared pointedly at his crotch, "says it all. And I suggest you go to bed early too. Practice IS at 5:30, you know." Rukia shot one more smug look at his crotch before closing the door with a decisive clack.

"Shit," breathed Ichigo, pushing his hands through his hair as he headed towards his own room so he could get to the bathroom for yet another cold shower. "Thanks a lot, buddy," he muttered, glaring at the northern part of his anatomy in disgust.

_You're welcome._

"Oh no, not you again," groaned Ichigo as he turned on the water.

**XXX**

Tatsuki couldn't get enough. Even though she and Kenpachi were as close as was physically possible, his entire body pinning her against the bed, she wanted more. She wanted-

"We need to stop," gasped Kenpachi as he pulled his mouth away from hers, albeit reluctantly.

"What?!" Tatsuki's eyes flew open to settle on his face in shock.

"We need to stop," he repeated, pushing himself up to hover above her as she propped herself up onto her elbows, the movement-Kenpachi kicked himself for noticing-causing her breasts to bounce slightly.

"Why?" she demanded, a line creasing her forehead into a frown as she crossed her arms over her breasts and sat up straight, forcing Kenpachi to shuffle backwards on the bed. "Don't you want me?"

"Obviously," scoffed Kenpachi, staring pointedly at the tent in his shorts before returning his gaze to hers. "I'm just, not, well, I'm just not ready."

"Isn't that supposed to be my line?" Tatsuki returned ruefully, sliding off the bed and going in a (fruitless) search for her bra. She finally gave up and shrugged on her blouse, refastening the buttons clumsily with her back turned to him. _Not a good sign, Keni. _He hopped off the bed and padded over to where she stood, using his hand on her shoulder to turn her around to face him.

"Look, Tatsuki," he began. "I want you, I really do. I just...I just..."

Her face softened slightly, and she rested her hand against his cheek, finishing his statement for him, "...you just want to wait until you know me a little better, is that it?"

Kenpachi nodded.

"Well, I'm not upset or anything," she gave him a half-smile, "I guess my female ego is a little bruised," Tatsuki tapped his nose, "but I suppose you have a good enough reason, so I'll let it slide...for now." She took his hand off her shoulder and wove her fingers through his, her normal mischevious smile returning as she tugged him towards the living room. "Now, let's get started on knowing me better so we can get finished what we started!"

**XXX**

"Enemies?" Gin scoffed, the ever-present grin on his face widening, if that was possible.

"Yes," Ukitake asserted.

"Well..," drawled Gin, leaning backwards and folding his arms behind his head, "there's really only one person that I can think of who would actually hate me enough to kill the three people in the world closest to me..."

"Who?"

"Hitsugaya Toushiro, of course," Gin replied grimly.

**XXX**


	15. Even More Frustration

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. I don't own the AFC, FIFA, or anything affiliated with them. Any other famous things I mention are theirs and theirs alone.**

**Author's note: **

**1) Well, I feel that the most difficult part of the story (the first act?) is done and now we can really dive into the good part...**

**2) Which means, hopefully, I won't leave you guys that actually do follow this fic hanging like I did with the last chapter...(I still feel bad for that, by the way...) **

**3) And here's a little nugget for you...If I get 10,000 views and 150 reviews by Sunday? I'll give you a little preview (with some IchiRuki yumminess!) of my next Bleach fanfic!**

**4) So, as always, thank you for reading, and enjoy chapter 15!**

"HItsugaya Toushiro?" Ukitake raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "Do you really think-"

"He's capable of that?" Gin finished, sliding himself into a sitting position, tucking one foot underneath him while leaning back against the couch. "Of course I do. He hates me more than anythin' in this whole world..."

"Ok," Ukitake said, reaching for his notebook and a pen. "Can you tell me why?"

"Sure can, chief," Gin drawled. "It started back in highschool...Toushiro had a huge crush (and probably still does) on Hinamori Momo-"

"Aizen's widow?" Jyuushiro paused his furious jotting to scan Gin's smug face.

"You got it, chief. Anyways, Toushiro always had the hots for lil' ol' Momo, but she herself," Gin chuckled, "always had it _bad_ fo' Aizen. Anyways, Momo don't have any clue at all 'bout how Toushiro feels 'bout her, and he ain't gonna be the one that tells her."

"What does this have to do with you?"

"Welp, me bein' Aizen's closest friend an'all, and me knowin' Momo, I set them up on their first date. They hit it off, and Toushiro, who was m'friend at the time, is livid with me 'cause I know jus' how he feels about Momo. Of course, when he comes flyin' in to see me, I tell him that it's his own fault and he can't blame _me _fo' the fact he was too coward to tell the lil' lady himself. Plus," Gin looked over his shoulder as he headed to the liquor cabinet hanging on one wall, "Toushiro's always been jealous of both Aizen and m'self."

"And why is that?" Jyuushiro gazed at the footballer, who returned his blistering look with an indulgent stare as he swigged some Bacardi.

Gin burped and used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe across his mouth.

"'Cause, we gots what he wants most, chief."

"Which is...?" Ukitake made a circular motion with his hand to tell the footballer to continue.

"Aizen got Hinamori. I have the soccer skills he always wanted, and," Gin screwed the lid, "owning the team lets him think he has some control over that...but, what grates him the most is that I also have something he never will-

The love of his wife."

**XXX**

Ichigo groaned, opening one eye to watch his finger close down on the button that stopped the insistent beeping of his watch's alarm. _Practice is at 5:30._ He squinched his eyes closed with that realization and groaned again. He rolled to the edge of the bed, leaning over to pick up his silk pajama pants, sliding them over his ankles and then standing as he whisked them up to his hips. Done dressing himself, he padded from his room to the kitchen.

_Maybe I should wake Rukia up. _He instantly rejected the idea. He wasn't sure if his overtaxed libido could take much more. Ichigo knew if he opened up the door and found the little detective in the same sort of 'nightgown' he'd seen her in the other night, he would explode. _I'll just make lots of noise, then._ He walked over to the window, opening the blinds, letting the lightening dusk spill into the kitchen, forgoing the light switch to head to the coffeemaker. He banged the pot against the counter on purpose, then dumped some whole beans into the top and pressed the 'grind' button. _That should wake her up._

**XXX**

Rukia woke to a whirring noise. She sat up, treating herself to a leisurely stretch. Her eyes fell upon the Chappy toy sitting on her dresser. She smiled in spite of herself. _That was sweet._ She frowned, abruptly remembering what happened after he'd given her the gift. It wasn't bad that he'd kissed her, she just didn't so much like the idea that he'd caused her to abandon her senses and get so well, caught up in returning his ardour.

_It's nice to be wanted, though._ And she had been the one that ended their little makeout session, after all. She chuckled as she stepped out of her nightie, letting it pool at her feet. She flipped the light switch before turning and heading to the closet. _Hmmm._ _Sexless, or sex bomb?_

She smirked as she shimmied into her decision.

**XXX**

The sun's first rays of light were just starting to creep across the kitchen floor when Rukia emerged from her room. She'd finally deduced that the whirring sound was the coffeemaker, and oh man, could she use some java right-

Her thought just died as she turned the corner and was greeted with the sight of Ichigo's bare chest. He was standing against the window, and the early morning light was just enough so Rukia could make out all the different bumps and curves that made up the lithe musculature of his body. He hadn't noticed her yet, so Rukia decided that she would just steal a few seconds to admire him yet again. She knew she should probably walk into the room and announce herself, but she didn't want to, just yet.

Her eyes hungrily followed the defined line of his jaw, to the clean, solid lines of his throat and neck. They tracked across his collarbones to those broad shoulders, following the center of his chest where his odd coloured hair sprinkled itself down his ridged abdomen, a treasure trail that Rukia _knew _lead to what could definitely be considered a treasure. Seemingly against her will, her traitorous eyes traced it's path to the waistband of his pants, which sat low on his-Rukia licked her lips-hipbones gently poking their way out from the toned, tanned length of his midsection. She didn't dare let her eyes venture any lower, so she returned them the way they'd came, tracking back up his body until they collided with his warm gaze. Rukia felt colour filling her cheeks, but she didn't look away.

"Caught ya," mirth-and something a little more potent, a little more dangerous-filled the footballer's voice as he pushed away from the window and started towards her.

**XXX**

_That little minx._ Apparently, he wasn't allowed to ogle her, but the little terror could leer at him all she wanted. _Not fair. _

Ichigo smirked as he pushed off from the wall, setting his coffee cup down on the counter and gliding over to where the diminuitive officer stood, her eyes never leaving his, even with a telltale blush rapidly filling her features, but she didn't move as he stalked closer.

He stopped just inches away from her body, looking down at her outfit in approval, feeling the first stirrings of desire clutch his stomach. _Damn, Kuchiki. You gotta stop surprising me like this. _The sundress she was wearing left little to the imagination, but what it did leave was, of course, worth the imagining. A shirred bust gave way to another flouncy skirt enging just below where her ass did, and as two slight protrusions appeared underneath the bustline, Ichigo became painfully aware of the fact that little Miss Kuchiki had, this morning, forgone wearing a bra.

_She's going to kill me if she keeps whipping out these outfits. _It also seemed that she hadn't brushed her hair, and Ichigo found the tousled, I-just-got-out-of-bed look incredibly sexy on her.

With Ichigo looming over her, Rukia had opted to not follow his eyes any longer, not wanting to tilt her head back to give him the opportunity for another kiss, but Ichigo seemed to have different ideas. He slid one long finger under her jaw and gently forced her head upwards and back until her eyes were once again meshed with his.

"Do you have any idea how gorgeous your eyes are?" he breathed, sliding his finger along the line of her jaw, lifting his other hand to frame her face, letting his thumb whisper across her eyelid as she blinked. "Or how," he swallowed convulsively, picking a piece of her hair up and twining it between his fingers, "sexy your hair looks all mussed up? Or how short that dress is?"

Rukia opened her mouth to fire back a burning retort, but suprised herself when she simply uttered, "Do you have any idea what _you_ look like half-naked, Kurosaki?"

Ichigo's eyes widened slightly, then his lids dropped heavily, leaving his eyes half-closed, but still open enough that Rukia could see the passion swirling through them. Passion _she _caused, she realized belatedly, and though she knew she shouldn't encourage it, she slid even closer to him, so that their bodies were almost touching, causing the footballer to suck in a breath.

"No, I don't think I do," he murmured. "But you know what, Miss Kuchiki? I sure wish I knew what _you _do." So saying, he once again bent his head to hers and claimed her mouth.

**XXX**

_You are so pathetic. You're letting him kiss you-again?! _Rukia sighed as Ichigo's clever tongue parted her lips and darted in to explore her mouth. He took his time, gently tangling his tongue with hers while his one hand twisted itself into her hair. _You should stop this right-_Rukia gasped as Ichigo's hand slid down from her neck, his palm grazing first her collarbone and then dragging right down over her breast. His hand continued downward, but he hooked his fingers into the top of her dress so that it came down with his hand, freeing her nipple, which he then pinched between his thumb and forefinger, tugging gently.

Ichigo smiled when he found Rukia's nipple, thoroughly enjoying the breathy little wheezes she emitted as he began pinching and tugging gently. He cradled her head, holding her mouth in place against him, wanting to make sure she couldn't escape. He'd quite happily noted that there was no place for her to tuck her gun-unless it was in her underwear..._Oh god._ How hot would that be?

Ichigo closed his mouth and slid his lips off hers, taking in her still-closed eyes and flushed face with a smug grin settling across his own. He kept tugging on her nipple, delighted at the moans she started making as soon as his mouth had left hers.

"We're halfway to half, Rukia," he leaned forward to breathe against her ear, tonguing the delicate shell, grazing his teeth against her lobe, "and I had no idea you looked _this_ good." Rukia only whimpered, and her hands, which had stayed at her sides, finally came up and she touched him back. Ichigo shuddered as she curved one over his pec, and the other one slowly slid up his back. Pulling back, he saw her eyes flutter open, desire clouding her irises to turn them to a midnight velvet.

"Well, isn't that something, Kurosaki?" she purred back. "Because I had no idea you _felt _this good." So saying, she suddenly curved her hands to dig both sets of nails into him, one raking across his chest and the other raking across his back.

"You have no idea," growled Ichigo from behind gritted teeth. So saying, he suddenly grasped her arms and hoisted her up on the counter, standing between her legs to push his already hard dick right into the notch between them.

"Mmm," Rukia murmured, throwing her head back. Ichigo ground into her again, dipping his own head to fasten his lips to the supple curve of her neck.

"My thoughts exactly," he whispered against her pulse. which he was gratified to notice beat just as swiftly and erraticly as his own. "Mmm."

_This is too much. _Ichigo slowly sucked her flesh into his mouth, his whole hand coming up to knead and roll her breast around beneath it, pushing himself against her with every tug of her neck into his mouth. _He's just too much. _She opened her mouth to tell him that, but just as she did-

"_Miageta yozora no hoshi tachi no hikari!"_ Both Rukia and Ichigo were startled by a loud song that came from her bedroom. "My cell phone," Rukia told Ichigo somewhat breathlessly, using her hand on his chest to hold her away from him. "I'd better get that."

"Whoever it is can wait," Ichigo replied, tugging on her nipple once again and starting to descend back to her neck.

"No, they can't." Rukia countered. "It's my brother, Byakuya."

**XXX**


	16. Early Morning Interview

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach. I don't own any other famous brand names/things mentioned.**

**Author's note: **

**1). Well guys, I'm actually REALLY sorry to make you wait so long for this chapter :(. So, as a way of doing penance for that (not so small) sin, Chapter 16 is...a little bit longer! ;)**

**2). Enough of me. Chapter 16! :)**

Chapter 15 recap:

_"Well, isn't that something, Kurosaki?" she purred back. "Because I had no idea you_ felt_ this good."_ _So saying, she suddenly curved her hands to dig both sets of nails into him, one raking across his chest and the other raking across his back._

_"You have no idea," growled Ichigo from behind gritted teeth. So saying, he suddenly grasped her arms and hoisted her up on the counter, standing between her legs to push his already hard dick right into the notch between them._

_"Mmm," Rukia murmured, throwing her head back. Ichigo ground into her again, dipping his own head to fasten his lips to the supple curve of her neck. _

_"My thoughts exactly," he whispered against her pulse. which he was gratified to notice beat just as swiftly and erraticly as his own. "Mmm."_

This is too much_. Ichigo slowly sucked her flesh into his mouth, his whole hand coming up to knead and roll her breast around beneath it, pushing himself against her with every tug of her neck into his mouth._ He's just too much._ She opened her mouth to tell him that, but just as she did-_

_"Miageta yozora no hoshi tachi no hikari!" Both Rukia and Ichigo were startled by a loud song that_ _came from her bedroom. "My cell phone," Rukia told Ichigo somewhat breathlessly, using her hand on his chest to hold her away from him. "I'd better get that."_

_"Whoever it is can wait," Ichigo replied, tugging on her nipple once again and starting to descend back to her neck._

_"No, they can't." Rukia countered. "It's my brother, Byakuya."_

**XXX**

Ichigo supposed he _should _be grateful to Rukia's brother for interrupting their little tryst-but only because it was around a quarter after 5 and her relative had saved him from being late, causing the team more laps and himself, more beats. Rukia, if her tone of voice was any indication, seemed a little less grateful, and Ichigo hoped it was because she was just as frustrated as he was, as he reached in the freezer for some ice...

**XXX **

"What do _you _want?" Rukia demanded, tugging her dress back up over her breast as she kicked the door to her room closed.

"I called to see how the investigation is going," her brother droned.

"Well, gee whiz golly, seeing as we haven't made an arrest yet, not too well," Rukia snapped back. She debated asking the next question, well aware that there was no way to phrase it that would hide her bitterness, then-_fuck, why not?_-decided yes. "And yours, Nii-sama?" She inquired in the fakest sugar-sweet tone she could pull off.

"There's no need for the attitude, Rukia," Byakuya intoned, and Rukia could hear his frown. He sighed. "Just fine. And I have already told you the reason why I can't-why I won't-"

"Allow me to do MY job if there's any threat of danger whatsoever?" Rukia sneered. "Yeah, you've told me, but I don't see how it's your fucking decision! Why THE FUCK did I join the force if I am never allowed to be a part of the actual action? That was the whole reason I went through all those years of police training, that's why I wanted to join the force in the first place, the thrill, the..." She trailed off with a growl, then added, "I just don't think it's fair of you-"

"I don't care what you think, Rukia. I made a promise, and it's one that I have no intention of breaking. Goodbye."

_Click. _

"FUCK!" Rukia's phone sailed across the room.

**XXX**

"It's 4:30, love. Time to get up." Yourichi bit the shell of her husband's ear, ignoring his sleepy protest. She headbutted him in the back. "Kisuke. It's time to get up."

"Nooooooo," he murmured, rolling onto his back, grabbing her arms in the process and tugging her down onto him for a slow, soft good morning kiss.

"Yes," she said against his lip. "Get your bony ass up. You made today an early bird practice, remember?"

"Fuck me..." groaned Kisuke, opening one eye. "Well, I'm not coach for nothing!" He smiled up at his dark beauty and reached for the phone on the bedside table-

Only to have Yourichi grab his wrist and twist it up to pin it beside his head. "You need this practice, Kisuke," she said sternly. "As flattering as it is that you want to stay with me, the Asian Cup IS in 3 days, love. And you and I both know," she went on with a little smirk, "if you don't have this practice today and you lose a game, you'll cite this as the reason and be all moody for the next week, at least. And when I have my Kisuske," she leaned down and bit his nose, "I don't like him moody. So get up, and get ready."

"Up and ready, eh?" A slow, lecherous grin spread across Urahara's face as he lifted his pinned wrist to grab his wife's neck, tipping her over on the bed and rising up over her. "Oh, don't you worry. I've already got both covered, my kitten."

**XXX**

"Hmm," Jyuushiro pursed his lips as he scanned the notes he'd just taken. "So, the general consensus of the football team seems to be that yes, Gin is creepy," he cleared his throat, "but otherwise than that, there's nothing wrong with him. And creepiness, while decidedly off-putting, is not sufficient basis for an arrest."

"Well, he was related to, and quite close to, Chin, Aizen, and Kira," Uryuu pushed his glasses up his nose. "And he does have an alibi for all three of the dates of the murders, so I think it's safe to say that Gin Ichimaru is NOT our killer."

"Yes," Capitan Ukitake agreed. "And while I initially felt that it was quite possible that one of the players could be the killer, almost all of them have solid alibis and believable stories, which leads me to believe that the murderer exists _outside _of the team." He scanned the faces of _his _team, which were all attentively attuned to him. That was a first. "Now, all of you have confirmed that none of the players on the team seem to have any problem with Gin," Soi Fon opened her mouth and Jyuushiro hurriedly continued, "and those that do steer clear of them. But even if the other players have a problem with him, none of them are his enemies."

"Well, since all of the victims have ties to Mr. Ichimaru, it is safe to assume he was being targeted by their murders." Kaname Tousen spoke up from his end of the table. "But, if none of the players are his enemy, who is?"

"That is the question I've been asking," Jyuushiro pressed his lips together. "And the most feasible answer, at this time, is not the players, but someone much higher-the owner."

"Hitsugaya Toushiro."

**XXX**

"Toushiro?" Matsumoto breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't hear anything, then slowly crept across the hallway, noticing that her husband's study light was on. _He's probably up late studying some figures. _A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she tiptoed down towards the door, pausing to pop into the sitting room to snatch a fleece afghan, tucking it under her arm and dropping her purse onto the table. Toushiro had a bad habit of trying to balance figures and read statistics late into the night, whizzing away at them until he collapsed out of sheer mental exhaustation. _Oh, the trial of being married to a genius._ Matsumoto reached for the door handle-

Only to have the door fly open just as her fingers brushed it, her silver-haired spouse standing on the other side, a frown covering his boyish features.

"Where have you been, babe?" he slurred.

_Oh, no, Toushiro. Tell me you're not drunk._

**XXX**

Matsumoto gasped as Toushiro grabbed her wrist and yanked her into the room, kicking the door closed behind her and flinging her around to face him. She scanned his desk and saw the (empty) jugs of sake lying strewn across it. _Oh, Toushiro, how much did you drink? _She looked back the the youth and saw red rimming his eyes. _Too much._

"I asked you a question, Matsumoto!" He roared at her. She flinched as his spittle hit her face.

"I had a night out with the girls," she shrugged indolently, twisting her wrist from his grasp and plopping the afghan onto the corner of the desk. "I told you that before I left."

"'Til' 6 o'clock in the FUCKING MORNING?" He shouted. "I don't believe you!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Toushiro," she growled. "I've been out later than this plenty of times. You're overreacting because you're drunk."

"Don't tell me I'm overreacting when I know you're lying!"

"I'm not lying-"

Smack! She never saw it coming. She raised a trembling hand to her jaw in disbelief. She took a shaky step back. She knew her husband couldn't handle his alcohol very well, and that he was not a happy drunk, but he'd never hit her before. Then again, he'd never been this drunk. She could tell by his blurry-eyed gaze that he was barely aware of what he was doing, what he had done. He was in a blind rage. _Okay, keep calm and maybe he'll calm down too._

"You were with _him, _weren't you?" Toushiro came close to her, and Matsumoto backed away. "I know you were. Don't deny it. I can smell," he sniffed the air, "him on you. What did you do this time, play a friendly game of checkers?"

"No. I already told you, I was out with my girlfriends. You and I both know that that is the truth," Matsumoto replied evenly. "I tell you when I am going out with Gin-"

Thock! Stars exploded across her vision as she flew to the floor. She looked up, shocked into silence. Toushiro stood over her, his chest heaving and his fist clenched.

"Why must you lie to me!" He screamed. "I know where you were! I know you were with him! Hell, I even know what you did!"

"Stop making absurd accusations, Toushiro," she tried again, but this time he twisted her hair into his fist and yanked her to her knees. "You're hurting me! Let go!" She struck out at his leg.

"But you like that, Matsumoto," Toushiro grinned down at her, wrapping her hair more tightly in his fist and leaning down to put them nose to nose. "If you didn't like being hurt, why do you still love him so much? Why can't you give me even a little of all that love you have reserved for him?" He spat out. Matsumoto looked away from him, seeing past the drunkness in his eyes to the pain lurking underneath. Toushiro grabbed her chin and wrenched her face back to his. "Why, Matsumoto? Why? Am I not better than that piece of trash?"

A tear squeezed into the corner of her eye, and she blinked them closed, knowing she had no answer to give him. Toushiro pulled on her hair to bring her face closer to his, catching her tear on his nose, nuzzling her. "I asked you a question," he murmured dangerously.

"As of right now? No, you're not better than him," she whispered. "You've always been, but right now, you're just as much of a monster." She finished and closed her eyes, expecting another blow for opening her mouth-

Only to feel her head being tugged down. She opened her eyes to find her husband slouched on the floor, his eyes closed and his breathing heavy. She waited a couple minutes, then sighed in relief when a slight wheeze escaped him.

_My poor, predictable husband. _Everytime Toushiro drank, he either spent the night peuking his brains out or falling into a death-like drunken slumber that lasted the better part of a day. Since this was the most he'd ever drunk, Matsumoto assumed that he would be out well into tomorrow. She sighed. _Silly man. _She disentangled his fist from her hair, then grunted as she lifted his limp form into her arms. She smoothed the hair off his forehead with her finger and pressed a kiss to it.

_I'm so sorry, Toushiro._

**XXX**

**About one year earlier**

"What do you say, Rangiku Matsumoto? Will you marry me?"

Matsumoto swallowed convulsively and looked down into the bright teal eyes. _So much hope. So little a chance it'll be fufilled._

"Yes, Hitsugaya. I will marry you."

**XXX**

"So what do you think of Ukitake's hypothesis?" Renji sank down into the seat beside Rukia, whose gaze was currently fixated on the players milling around on the field.

"Hmmm?"

"I said,-"

"Fuck, Renji, I know what you said," she snapped irritably, angry at the way her eyes kept straying to a certain orange-haired center-midfielder.

"Okay," Renji frowned at her. "So what do you think?"

"I don't know," Rukia sighed. "I mean, of course, if Hitsugaya IS Ichimaru's biggest enemy, then it makes sense that he _could _be the killer. But, at the same time, he also owns the team. He'd have just as much, if not more to lose, by killing off three of his best players. And for a supposed genius, that makes no sense."

"Well," drawled Renji, "if it's a crime of passion, it doesn't have to."

"Yeah," Rukia acknowledged, crunching into a potato chip. "But then again, he made his whole fortune via statistics, right? Which means, he must have at least SOME logicking powers. And for him to kill three players he owns, well, that makes no sense at all."

"Hmm. Well, I agree with you, but the problem? Is that it makes the _most_ sense of anything we've come up with so far." The partners shared a contemplative look, then returned their attention to the practice.

**XXX**

"Can I help you?"

"Yes." Jyuushiro met the butler's frosty gaze with an icy glare of his own while flashing his badge, a little surprised when the butler's expression did not change. "Tokyo Metro Police. I'd like to speak to Hitsugaya Toushiro, if I may."

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Hitsugaya is rather, _sniff, _indisposed at the moment. May I suggest a later appointment?"

Jyuushiro gritted his teeth. That whole I'm-better-than-you-are attitude _really _grated him. "Well, is the lady of the house at home at all? Ms. Rangiku?"

"Yes, she is. If you just wait here," the butler opened the door and finally admitted Jyuushiro into the house, "I will go see if the lady is receiving."

_Stilted bastard. _Jyuushiro watched the butler shuffle down the hall with a malevolent glare, then turned his attention to surveying the entryway he was currently ensconsed in. He was rather disappointed, to tell the truth. He'd expected that the tenth richest man in all of Japan would have an ostentatiously pretentious entryway, maybe something all marble and with at least three fountains and useless architecture, but the area around the front door had an understated elegance and simplicity. A hardwood floor spanned the length of what he could see was an _extremely _elongated hallway. A large Oriental rug lay under his feet, and the first 6 feet of the hallway were mirrored. Two mirrors on his left hand side had handles, so he assumed that was the closet. Three cast iron hat hangers stood guarding their mirrored counterparts. He looked up and saw a decent-sized chandelier hanging above his head. _I get the feeling that I might have liked Mr. Hitsugaya._

"The lady of the house has agreed to see you, sir."

"Excellent." Jyuushiro fought hard to keep sarcasm from tinging his tone.

"Right this way."

**XXX**

"Rangiku, Matsumoto? I'm Captain Ukitake Jyuushiro. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Thank you," Matsumoto quickly scanned the police officer settling himself onto the settee opposite her, her eyes narrowing slightly, cataloguing his appearance and committing it to memory. He had long white hair tied behind him in a ponytail, an angular face, and a lean, rawboned body that told her quite clearly he didn't spend most of his days behind a desk eating doughnuts. His steely eyes gave her no small clue that the latter part of the phrase 'police force' applied directly to him.

While she was studying him, Jyuushiro was doing the same, running down all the facts he knew about her. Name: Rangiku Matsumoto. Age: 28. Height: 5'8. Occupation: Actress. Married to Hitsugaya Toushiro, 6 years her junior, for about one year. According to Gin Ichimaru, not in love with her husband. Jyuushiro also noticed that one side of her face appeared to be swollen, and the artfully applied makeup around her right eye couldn't hide the bruise underneath it from his. _Toushiro beats her? _

When he walked in, he'd been shocked to see that Toushiro was actually present, although apparently 'indisposed'. He was lying down on the same couch Matsumoto was sitting, his head on her lap, curled up on his side. His face was facing away from Jyuushiro, and Matsumoto had one hand resting on his side and with the other she was smoothing his hair.

"May I ask you a few questions?"

"Yes," Matsumoto nodded her assent. Toushiro whimpered and she massaged his scalp with her fingertips.

"Ahem. You and Mr. Hitsugaya have been married for how long?"

"10 months, 2 weeks, and 3 days," she replied, touching her tongue to her lip with a mischevious smile.

Jyuushiro simply raised his eyebrows and gave her a slight smile in return. _He looks nicer when hes smiling._

"Um...do you know what Mr. Hitsugaya was doing the evenings of May 19th, 24th, and June 2?"

"Hmm." She looked down and then looked back up at the officer, a slight frown creasing her brow. "I'm not sure of the first two, but two days ago we went out for dinner."

"Where did you go?"

"The Hanging Vine."

"How long were you there for?"

"About 3 or 4 hours?"

"Is there anyone that can vouch for you?"

"Yes. Our friends Mr. and Mrs. Yazui, the manager Hin Leo."

"What did you do after dinner?"

"We came home. Toushiro said he had some things he needed to do, and he left."

"Around what time did you come home?" Jyuushiro lifted his gaze from his notebook to drill it into her. She returned it, steadily, and he couldn't read any guile or dishonesty in her gaze.

"We returned to the condo at between 10:30 and 11."

"What time did Mr. Hitsugaya return from being out?"

"I actually don' t know that, Captain Ukitake," Matsumoto admitted reluctantly. "I went to bed around 1 o'clock and when I woke up the next morning at 10, he was beside me in bed so I didn't think anything of it."

"Hmm." He scribbled some more in his notebook, then looked up at her with a rueful expression. "Now, Ms. Rangiku, if you wouldn't mind, I would like to ask you questions of, ah, well, more _personal _nature."

"Um...," she contemplated for a couple seconds, then nodded. "Ok."

"You don't have to answer them if you don't want to, and if you find that they are getting too personal, you may ask me to stop at any time and I'll be on my way."

"Why are you asking me personal questions, Mr. Ukitake?"

He leaned forward in the chair, seeking her gaze earnestly. "I think that the answers you can give me may be extremely helpful to my investigation, Ms. Rangiku. Also, I was given information on you and your husband from someone else and I want to see if it checks out."

"From Gin?" Matsumoto felt her eyes widen and willed herself to calm down.

"I can't tell you who gave it to me," Jyuushiro corrected her gently, knowing that she and he both knew that that was exactly who he'd gotten his information from.

"Okay," she agreed once more, sitting up straighter, which put her (admittedly magnificent) breasts right into his line of vision. Jyuushiro cleared his throat and sat up straight.

"Does your husband beat you, Ms. Rangiku?"

**XXX**


	17. The AngelBoy

**Chapter 17**

**DIS-CLAIM-HER. I do not! Own Bleach. Mercedes-Benz. Ray Ban. Nike. "Cannon of Asia". Etc. Etc.**

**1). Well, I PROMISE there will be some good IchiRuki coming up! :)**

**2). I enjoyed writing a longer chapter SO MUCH, that I think most of the chapters I write from now on I will try to have upwards of 2000 words. :) **

**3). I changed the story of how Gin and Matsumoto/Toushiro and Matsumoto meet/their early years of knowing each other, (it doesn't really follow the manga/anime,) for the simple reason that this fic is set in the 'living world' and not Soul Society. I figure you'll forgive me for it. :p**

**4). I made Gin and Chin (his twin brother), albino, for the simple reason that 1) this is my fic, so I get to do what I want, and 2) White hair? White skin? Red eyes? I mean really, what else could he be? :P**

"Excuse me?"

Captain Ukitake simply pinned her with his steely gaze, his expression telling her that she knew exactly what he had asked her, and giving her no doubt that he meant to have an answer.

Matsumoto sighed. "No, Toushiro does not beat me." She stroked her fingertips across her prostrate husband's face and prayed his sleep lasted for as long as the police officer was here.

"How, then, is your jaw swollen? How'd you get that shiner?" Jyuushiro inquired, raising his eyebrow as if to say _Oh, really?_

"He hit me."

Jyuushiro raised his other eyebrow to join the first. "Oh, he hit you. So tell me, Ms. Rangiku," he forced, "does that not mean that your answer to my first question should be yes?"

"No, actually, it doesn't," she replied. "There is a difference between being hit and being beaten, Captain Ukitake."

"Oh? I was unaware that there was such a thing. To me, when a man hits a woman, a man hits a woman, Ms. Rangiku. And it's not something that should go unpunished."

"There is a difference," Matsumoto plowed on, pretending that she hadn't heard him. "This is the first (and last) time that Toushiro has hit me. If he hits me again, I will call the police and have him charged," she glared at the officer as he snorted in disbelief. "He was drunker than I've ever seen him before, Captain Ukitake. And Toushiro is many, many things, but a happy drunk he is not."

"How often does Mr. Hitsugaya indulge, Ms. Rangiku?" interjected Jyuushiro.

"He only drinks to excess if he is extremely upset and by himself. When he gets drunk, he either ends up throwing up for hours on end-depending on how much he's had to drink-or falling into a deep sleep and waking up with a massive hangover later on."

"So am I to assume that he is currently in the aforementioned 'deep sleep'?"

"Yes, Captain Ukitake. He'll wake up later today and he won't remember that any of it every happened. I intend to keep it that way," Matsumoto sharpened her voice. "Something must have really upset him."

"That's still not an excuse for him to get violent with you, Ms. Rangiku."

"No, it doesn't excuse it," agreed Matsumoto. "But it does provide a motivator and a reason for it. As I was saying," she cleared her throat. "If he ever hits me sober, or hits me again, that counts as him beating me. And I will call the police and I will have him charged, but I am unwilling to do that today because I do not know what made him so upset. And if I had been here," she glanced down and exhaled sadly, "then poor Toushiro wouldn't have gotten drunk at all."

"I see," Jyuushiro's tone let her know very clearly that he didn't understand her point at all.

"Ask your next question, Captain Ukitake."

"Do you love your husband, Ms. Rangiku?"

"Yes, I do." The swift and assured affirmation caught him off guard, and it must have shown in his face because immediately after she'd answered, Matsumoto's face darkened. "Oh, did your informant tell you otherwise?"

"Um...They, ah hinted at the fact you may not bear the same affection for your husband that you may carry for others." Was it just him, or did the temperature in the room seem to have spiked at least 10 degrees? Jyuushiro swallowed.

"Contrary to what your informant, the public, and what he himself may believe-" she continued, "I do love my husband. I wouldn't have married him if I didn't."

"How exactly did that come about anyways, Ms. Rangiku?" Jyuushiro couldn't keep the genuine curiosity from reflecting in his voice. "I mean, Ms. Hinamori and Aizen, you and Mr. Hitsugaya...how did it all come to be?"

"It's a long story," Matsumoto replied. "But, y'know what, Captain Ukitake? I don't think you'll ever be able to make any sense of anything if I don't tell it to you."

"Okay...Please, do."

**XXX**

**20 years earlier**

She was cold, so cold. Howling and whistling, the wind raced down the alley and whipped out into the street, mercilessly buffeting the motionless child who lay huddled against the cold brick of an even colder-looking building. Rangiku Matsumoto shivered one last time and put her hands over her ears. _Maybe if I can't hear the wind, I won't feel so cold. _Her stomach chose that exact moment to growl, and hearing that reminded the little girl that she hadn't had anything to eat since two days ago. She didn't even feel like she could move. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and the last thing she remembered thinking was the grim thought; _am I dying?_

**xxx**

When she came to, she was still cold. Not as cold, though. In fact, her neck was warmer, and her back was warm as well-

Matsumoto blinked her eyes open. She hadn't moved from the alley she'd been in before, but she wasn't dead-at least she didn't think she was. She looked down, and it was then that she noticed the pink scarf wrapped snugly around her neck. _Oh, that's why my neck was so warm._ _But why was my back?-_

She pivoted and looked behind her. Curled up against the wall was a boy-about the same size as herself-but he was unlike any boy she'd ever seen. _He must have given me this scarf. He was the reason I was so warm. _A shock of white hair curved down over an even paler face, and a fan of dark lashes fell onto the same white cheek.

_He must be an angel._ Matsumoto turned back around, a smile blooming across her face as she drifted off once more.

**xxx**

"Wake up, c'mon. Wake up!" Matsumoto opened her eyes to see to the angel-boy's face right above hers, something akin to panic covering his face. On seeing that her eyes were open, the boy yanked on her arm, pulling her into a sitting position.

"Ow!" Matsumoto cried out from his rough treatment.

"Get up!" The boy hissed at her.

_Forget angel. This boy is more like a demon._ Matsumoto reluctantly got to her feet, rubbing her (now) sore arm. "You didn't have to be so rough," she chided.

"Sorry," said the boy's lips, but his face said that he didn't really care. "But we need t'get goin'. If we stay out here much longer, we're gonna freeze t'death."

At that precise moment, Matsumoto's stomach decided to protest it's currently empty state once more. She blushed and crossed her arms over it, but the boy made no comment. He simply reached beneath his jacket, drawing out a half-eaten candy bar and holding it to her mouth. "Here, eat this."

"I c-couldn't." Matsumoto shook her head, her teeth chattering. "It's yours."

"Yea, it is," the boy grinned, "But I'm choosin' t'share it with ya. So here, have a bite." He urged it towards her once more, and this time she accepted, biting into the candy bar with a relish she couldn't tamp down. The boy simply laughed and tossed a shock of his pale hair out of his face. "I knew ya were hungry. Your stomach was growling while we was sleeping," he explained, then added randomly, "Ichimaru Gin. Pleased to meet ya."

"Rangiku Matsumoto," she replied, her mouth full of candy bar. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it, Rangiku Matusmoto. Now, follow me."

"Where are we going?"

"I know a warm place where we can stay fo' tonight, at least. C'mon." Gin grabbed her hand and pulled her along behind him into the frosty night.

**xxx**

"I thought you were an angel, you know," Matsumoto whispered into the inky blackness surrounding her. A giggle erupted very close to her ear, and the arm around her shoulders tightened momentarily.

"I ain't no angel," Gin said solemnly. "I jus' hate t'see a fellow street rat suffer, that's all."

"Well, angel or not, you saved my life," Matsumoto whispered, laying her head on his chest. "Thank you."

"Welcome," came the murmured answer. The 'warm place' that Gin had mentioned was actually a church that fortunately seemed to be of a denomination that didn't believe in locking its doors-something the two street kids were most decidedly grateful for. There was no light, but they had managed to make it to a pew and were now huddled together ontop of it. Although the church was a great deal less cold than it was outside, the air was still chilly.

"Gin?" Matsumoto ventured.

"Yea?"

"If you're not an angel...why are you so white?"

Gin laughed again. "My mommy says I'm a special type o'person called an albino," he explained. "I don't do very well in the sun, but jus' look at my pretty white hair," he mocked himself.

"Oh," yawned Matsumoto. "I think I understand..."

**XXX**

"So...Gin saved your life when you were 8 and you two..." Jyuushiro prompted.

"...we became friends, naturally," replied Matsumoto. "Since we were the same age, and (as I assumed at the time), in the same situation, it was only natural that we would have formed some sort of bond...and we did."

"Wait a second." Jyuushiro held up his hand. "What do you mean, you _assumed _that you were in the same situation?"

Matsumoto sighed. "Well, as it turned out, Gin wasn't a street rat at all..."

**xxx**

They'd lived in the church for a week. When Matsumoto woke up, Gin would be gone. He'd go out every day 'scavenging', and when he returned, it was usually with some sort of junk food-candy bars, chips, soda to drink. He never told Matsumoto where he'd gotten these things and she never bothered to ask. She figured that he had stolen them from somewhere, and every time she thought about it she felt just the slightest bit guilty, but it meant she wasn't starving so she said nothing.

Then one day, Gin returned emptyhanded and grim-faced.

"What's wrong, Gin?" Matsumoto asked.

"We need t'get movin'," Gin responded. "But don't worry, I know another place we can go. It's an orphanage. We'll be alright there," he added hastily on noticing Matsumoto's expression. "They're good people and they actually care. We'll do alright."

"I don't know, Gin. Why can't we just stay here?"

"Don't be naive, Matsumoto. We ain't gonna be able to live here forever. Ya know that."

"Yes, Gin."

"I like it when ya say that," Gin laughed and held out his hand, leaving Matsumoto to tuck hers inside and trust him once again.

**xxx**

_I owe him so much. My life, the old, and this new, much much better one. _Matsumoto sat on the windowsill, shading her eyes against the noonday sun, watching her best friend play football with the other boys. _Does he know how grateful I am to him for everything he's done for me? What could I ever do to repay him? _She smiled as she watched him steal the ball from his opponent and out maneuver him to get the ball past half to another teammate. He did that stupid little victory dance he was so fond of, pulling his shirt up and flopping his body every which way, and Matsumoto laughed aloud, sharing in his merriment.

They'd been at the orphanage for about three months, and Matsumoto had to say that Gin really knew how to pick places to stay. As he'd promised, they'd been 'alright', although in Matsumoto's books, 3 hot meals a day, education, and a roof over her head for nothing more than doing a few chores was far more than alright, it was amazing. The other amazing thing about it was the fact that she got to spend almost every waking moment with her best friend, her partner in crime, the boy who saved her life, her angel. Her and Gin were inseperable, so much so that they'd even gotten around the rules of the orphanage and were actually allowed to sleep in the same room. Matsumoto snickered and stared out the window once again, trying to find her compatriot. Her chuckle died in her throat when she didn't see him on the field, but on the sidelines, with...two POLICE OFFICERS!?

**xxx**

_So they finally found me._ Gin sighed inwardly and nodded when the one police officer asked him if he was indeed the spawn of the devil of the Japanese shipping industry, Ichimaru Hiyuki. What else could he do? He could've said no, he supposed, but really, how much time would that have bought him? A day, maybe two? And that wasn't even mentioning the fact that his father would probably have razed the orphanage to the ground and made it his personal mission to see that anything and anyone associated with it was destroyed as well. Gin couldn't, _wouldn't,_ ever allow that to happen. Not when the only person he'd ever cared for was-

Striding across the field towards them, anger, confusion, and worry all thunderstorming themselves across her face. _No, Matsumoto. _He turned his back on her and started walking towards the edge of the field where he could see the limousine with the all-too familiar Ichimaru family name spread across the back window. She was going to reach him before he got there, so Gin stopped walking and turned his head to the side. _Don't follow me, _his eyes said. _Please don't follow me._

**xxx**

Matsumoto watched Gin walk to the edge of the field and crawl into a big black limousine without a backwards glance, and somehow she knew that this was the last time she'd ever see her best friend, but that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was _she had no idea why. _She bit her lip, feeling tears start to well up behind her eyelids. She tried to hold them back, but it was too much. She fell to the ground, crying her heart out.

_Oh, Gin, what am I going to do without you?_

**xxx**


	18. It's Always Have, Never Hold

**Disk-lame-her: I DON'T own Bleach, unfortunately. I don 't own anything else either, really.**

**1) I would suggest listening to the song "Look After You" by the Fray (that's where the title of this chapter comes from) because I really really like the lyrics, and I was listening to it, (among other things) while writing this chapter and I even used some of the lyrics for dialogue so...yeah...do it up! :P**

**2). I kept the way that Matsumoto and Hitsugaya meet the same as in the manga...for one, because I think it's cute! I've decided that Matsumoto is about 14, and Toushiro is about 8, so that's what it means when it says "14 years earlier"...(i.e. 28-14, 14, etc..). I've also decided that Momo is 2 years older than Toushiro (that explains why they're in the same grade...)**

**3). Gin Ichimaru is a sly, conniving bastard...and I don't think the story so far has done that part of him justice...so get ready for some bastard-ish behaviour, right at the beginning of this chapter...(Keep in mind the fiction IS rated M...although, I don't think it's **_**that **_**bad...;) )...and some subsequent IchiRuki, as promised!! :)**

**4) HOLY SHIT this chapter is LONG! But there were some things I really wanted to get in here, (one of which was IchiRuki, DAMN! But for those of you who like GinMatsu, then I think you'll like this chapter...) Anyways, yes, this chapter is long, but I feel you need to know the 'background' as it were because it'll factor into the next chapter...(feel free to disagree, lol.) Enough of my wordsplatter...**

**5) Chapter 18, enjoy!**

_Fuck my life. _Rukia crossed her arms and blew irritatedly at the one lock of hair that was forever falling into her eyes. Once again, she was waiting for Kurosaki Ichigo. _What the hell does he do in there, powder his nose? _The rest of the team was already long gone, but no, she had to sit here and wait for that damned footballer's (admittedly cute) ass. She sighed and sank further down in her chair, levelling her gaze at the opposite wall-

Slitted eyes regarded her mirthfully and the corner of Ichimaru Gin's thin mouth tipped up even farther into what Rukia would definitely peg as a lecherous smile. Jyuushiro had asked her to keep an eye on Gin for him while he interviewed Hitsugaya, and Rukia regretted telling him she would. There was something about him that was unsettling, beside his pale skin and white hair and what Rukia knew (although she currently couldn't see) his red eyes. Not that she had anything against albinos, mind you, it was just that Mr. Ichimaru gave off this, well, _vibe, _that made Rukia uneasy.

Gin let the corner of his mouth tip up into what he knew was a leering smile and felt a frisson of satisfaction race through him when the diminuitive police officer's eyes widened. He could sense her discomfort, could almost taste it, and he reveled in it. He unfolded his long body from the plastic seat and sauntered over to where she sat, stopping just short of her, forcing her to tip her head back to keep eye contact with him.

Rukia swallowed convulsively as Gin loomed over her, her hand jerking towards her gun. She forced her hand back to her side and tipped her head back to look up at the lanky footballer. "What the fuck is Kurosaki doing in there?" She grated, rising to her feet simply to make herself feel less intimidated, but it didn't work. Gin's slit of a smile opened even more as he cocked his head to the side.

"Tampin' down his reaction t'ya, I 'pect," he laughed. "Ya seem t'get quite the rise outta 'im...not tha' I see any reason _why_." He treated himself to a lengthy cataloguing of her body. Rukia wanted to cover herself from his gaze, but then he would win whatever game he was playing and she refused to give him that satisfaction. She kept her hands at her sides and perused his figure the same way he was studying hers.

"Neither do I, Mr. Ichimaru," she replied. "I'm not quite the most stunning woman in the world." When his heated fascination with her anatomy lingered in the region of her chest, she conceded defeat and crossed her arms over that area. Gin's slitted gaze shot back up to her face.

"Perhaps not," Gin agreed, stepping towards her, and laughing to himself when she couldn't stop herself from taking a step back. "But he wants somethin' ya got, and I think I jus' figured what it is." Another step forward. _Two more steps-_ The little woman's back hit the wall. _Excellent._

Rukia swallowed once again, feeling the wall against her back. She relaxed her clenched fists but kept her arms tensile, ready to reach for her gun if need be. "And what is that?" she queried.

Gin put his hands on either side of her head and leaned down, resting his chin on her shoulder to whisper in her ear; "Sexuality, love. Pure, raw, carnal...and therefore irresistable..." His tongue flicked out and just barely touched her ear, making her shiver-whether from fear or excitement Rukia dare didn't guess. _Me? Sexuality? That's like an oxymoron, he must be crazy! _She opened her mouth to tell Gin that he was wrong, but her words morphed into a gasp of shock as the footballer slid one long finger down her body, pausing to rub her clit through the fabric. He stopped and looked up at her shocked expression, that annoyingly knowing smile still pasted on his arrogant face. Rukia went to reach for her gun, but Gin somehow detected her movement and caught both her wrists above her head, pinning them to the wall. Rukia bucked against him, about to kick and knee him-but the bastard anticipated that too, pinning her lower body against the wall with his so she couldn't escape.,

"See, love?" he purred, nibbling on her neck while he kept rubbin his finger over her clit in maddening little circles. "I've fallen prey to it to. There's nothin' I'd like more than to take ya, right now," he hissed the last words in her ear, "whether ya like it or not."

"Assaulting a, a...a-p-police officer, Mr. Ichimaru? Probably not the b-b-brightest idea..." stuttered Rukia as Gin made a couple more passes at her clit, and then withdrew his hand. _How could that arouse me?_ Here the man was, practically raping her, and she was wet? _I only hope he doesn't find out that-Oh, shit._

Gin had slid his hand right up her skirt, his middle finger poised right under her cunt. "My, my, my, Detective Kuchiki," he drawled. "Wet already! Why, ya are jus' full of surprises, aren't ya?"

Rukia's eyes flew open. "You have no idea, Mr. Ichimaru," she said sweetly, before turning her head to savagely chomp down on the arm holding hers. Her arms freed, she lost

no time in whipping her gun out and pointing it straight at his heart. "Now, kindly remove you and your hands from the vicinity of my body, before I blow _you_ back against the wall."

**XXX**

"Well you obviously met Gin again, right?" Ukitake leaned back in his chair and crooked his eyebrow.

"Yes," Matsumoto asserted, "but I met Toushiro far before Gin and I reunited..."

**xxx**

**14 years earlier**

Clink! The meaty shopkeeper ignored the boy's outstretched hand and dropped the change on the counter. The boy reached to scoop the change off from where it had fallen, and Matsumoto felt her shoulders rising in indignation. _How could that shopkeeper be so rude? He had his hand right there ready for it! _She straightened and strode over to the counter determinedly, unaware that her bosom had knocked the child to the floor. She leaned over the counter, glaring at the portly shop owner.

"Hey! Dropping change on the counter, is that anyway to treat your customers!" She yelled into the shocked man's face. "Who would have thought that you could possibly be so rude? Think you can get away with it because he's a kid or something?" As the man blustered a fumbling apology, she turned her attention to the boy lying on the floor, grabbing him by the arm to yank him up to face her. "And you! Don't just lie there crying about it! If you're a man, you should stand up for yourself like one!"

The boy's teal eyes turned frosty. He tugged on his arm and spat back, "You're the one who knocked me down! And I wasn't crying, get off!" He pulled his arm out of her grip and pinned her with an icy glare.

"I-I did?" Matsumoto lowered her voice. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," the boy nodded grudgingly, turning and walking out of the store. Matusumoto turned back to the shopkeeper, then realized something. She squared her shoulders and stormed out of the shop, anger rolling across her face.

**xxx**

"You! Hey, you! Wait up!"

_Oh, great. _Toushiro stopped walking and pivoted reluctantly. It was that crazy girl from the shop, the one who had stood up for him. _Not that I needed her to._ Toushiro had gotten used to the townspeople treating him as if he was some sort of demon-child. His village was a superstitious lot, and he didn't know how many times he had heard them all whispering about how 'that child is a bad sign'. Granny had explained that it was because they'd simply never seen anyone born with silver hair and teal eyes, and to their, (as she put it), "feeble" minds, things that were different meant things that were bad. Toushiro guessed his icy attitude and the frosty way in which he treated everyone didn't help much either, but he didn't care.

"Hey, I said wait up!" The strawberry blonde girl finally caught up to him, her chest heaving. Being only eight, Toushiro didn't really notice much about the opposite sex-but this girl had made it impossible not to notice her enormous chest as her bosom heaved and fought the confines of the nun's habit it had been shoved into-not that the habit was covering much, anyways.

"What?" Toushiro snapped.

"How dare _you _be so rude, too!" The girl huffed. "After standing up for you in there, you don't even say thank you!"

"Thank you," Toushiro growled, then turned to walk off, irritated when the girl fell into step besides him.

"You're welcome," she replied. "The shopkeeper handed me _my _change, you know. Whyever didn't he extend the same courtesy to you?"

"He's scared of me," Toushiro said matter-of-factly. _When is she going to GO AWAY?_

"Scared of you?!" The girl laughed. "But you're so sm-" Her laughter died when she noticed the boy's eyes beginning to frost over once again. "I mean, you are pretty intimidating, I guess," she amended hastily. "I'm Rangiku Matsumoto." She held out her hand.

The boy simply looked at her outstretched hand, then his shoulders lowered and he reached out to grasp it. "And I am Hitsugaya Toushiro," he supplied. "And I really must be getting home now."

**xxx**

Matsumoto had always thought of Toushiro as a little brother, and as time passed he slowly became a replacement for Gin. When she learned that the villagers had not allowed him to go to school with their children, she was infuriated and she requested that he be allowed to come and study at the orphanage. The nuns were willing, and so Toushiro came to live at the orphanage. He was two years behind all the other children, but within his first year he had reached the level that he was supposed to be at (grade 3). The next two years passed rather uneventfully, with Matsumoto studying and working hard, doing her best to stay out of trouble (not too much of a problem with her oh-so serious counterpart). Toushiro had intially been afraid to leave his dear 'Granny', but seeing as he only lived a couple of blocks away from the orphanage, not a day went by that he and Matsumoto didn't make the trek to go and see her, often seeing his other close friend, a black haired imp of a girl he'd affectionately termed 'bed-wetter Momo',as well.

Close to the end of the school year, the nuns announced that there was a great opportunity for for four of their pupils! The four pupils (a boy and a girl from the lower levels and a boy and a girl from the upper levels) would be sent to a new private school that had opened just outside of Tokyo!

Matsumoto didn't have the highest mark in her class, but the girl that did, (while grateful for the opportunity) wanted to stay on and complete her vows to become a nun. When the choice fell to Matsumoto, she jumped for it. She loved the dear nuns and was grateful for their care of her, but truth be told, a couple of village boys had introduced her to a drink called sake, partaking of which was an activity that the nuns tended to frown upon, and she found the orphanage's rules on the subject not quite to her liking.

If she'd been worried that she wouldn't know anyone there, she need have no fear. Toushiro had proved to be quite the genius, quickly catching up and even bypassing the other children, doing 2 grades a year to finish grade six at age 10. It was no surprise to everyone then, when he ended up with the highest mark in his class. What did surprise everyone was how Hinamori Momo managed to do the same thing...what Matsumoto, Toushiro, and Momo herself felt unnecessary to tell anyone was the reason-Toushiro did about 90 of her homework.

If Matsumoto had told him once, she'd told him a million times. "You can't let her walk all over you like that, Toushiro," she always scolded him. But no matter how much she lectured him, Toushiro just kept putting himself out there for her. He told Matusmoto once that Momo had always been there for him, befriending him when the other children ran away from him and taunted him, standing up for him even when he didn't want it. "How can I not do the same for her?" he stated. At the time, Matsumoto simply nodded, understanding without it needed to be said that Toushiro had the crush of all crushes on his black-haired companion-something that everyone except Momo herself could clearly see.

**xxx**

The summer passed in a whirl, and before the three friends knew it, they were packig to leave the orphanage, the village, and all they'd ever known behind. The night before their departure, Matsumoto found herself unable to sleep. She crept out of the orphanage and walked to the soccer field, lying on her back in the chopped grass and gazing up at the night sky, her thoughts wandering over her time at the orphanage-back to the beginning-_Gin. _ A wave of pain accosted her. _Oh, Gin, where are you? How I wish that you were coming with me. How I wish that I could see you again..._

**xxx**

Gin HATED school. Hate, hate, hate, hate, HATE, **HATED **it. _At least it seems to return the sentiment. _Gin looked down at the course syllabus in disgust. He couldn't think of any place he'd hate to be more-except home, of course. As bad as school was, it was lightyears away from that hell-hole of a mansion. _It doesn't even deserve the name home._ Gin rested his head on his hand and stared out the window, something he was sure he would spend most of his time doing in the months to come-

And then he saw _her. _He was sure it couldn't be anyone else-he'd never met another girl with that exact same shade of strawberry-blonde. It was longer, of course, but Gin knew-he KNEW-that the girl walking along the path was Matsumoto. _It HAD to be._

Gin's hand shot up and he screeched, "Sensei! Sensei! I think-I think I'm going to be sick...may I go to the restroom?" When the teacher nodded, Gin bolted up out of his chair and sped to the door, banging his leg off a couple of desks in the process-but he didn't even feel it, didn't care about the curious look his brother Chin shot him as he flew out the door.

_She's here, and everything will be perfect this time. I know it._

**xxx**

"Matsumoto! Rangiku Matsumoto! Matusmoto!" Matsumoto _knew _that voice from somewhere, she knew she did. It sounded familiar and she couldn't quite place-

_Oh my god. Gin?! Here!?_

"Gin!?" She spun around happily, completely unaware that he was running right at her-SMACK!! They fell to the ground in a tangle of adolescent limbs. Matsumoto's ass hit the ground hard, and she whimpered with the quick jolt of pain-pain that was quickly forgotten upon seeing the face of her angel. "Oh, Gin," she was quick to fasten her arms around his neck, squeezing as if she'd never let go. Gin found he didn't much mind. "I thought I'd never see you again," she sobbed.

Gin knew that he should get off her, that he should take their reunion somewhere more private than the middle of the sidewalk with a million curious eyes staring their way, but he couldn't bring himself to do more than say, "I know," and rest his head on her shoulder, wrapping his own arms around her body and getting as close to her as he could-and just like that, he knew. _This. This is my home._

**xxx**

Gin and Matsumoto picked up right where they'd left off-if they could help it, there wasn't a minute they didn't spend in each other's company-but their relationship had changed. Both sensed it, both felt it happening, and both felt a sort of fear and tenative excitement at what it could do for-and to-them. And when the shift became concrete, when they finally jumped off that precipice into the unknown, they found it to be even better than what they'd had before...

**xxx**

_Another card?_ _Gin's really going all out. That's the third one this week. _Matsumoto chuckled and slid her finger under the Little Kitty sticker plastered to the outside of the tiny envelope. The envelope open, she slowly tugged the card out, and a flash of silver fell into her hand. Curious, Matsumoto lifted a delicate chain to reveal a ornate pair of silver filgaree wings. When she held it up in the sun-Matumoto gasped. Inbetween every wing, a tiny diamond sparkled, the effect so-

"Gorgeous," a voice breathed into her ear. Matsumoto spun around to meet the serious gaze of her boyfriend, a smug expression covering his beautiful face.

"Yes, it is! Oh, Gin, where did you find it! I'm almost afraid to wear it, it's so beautiful!" She gushed. Gin's eyes opened slowly from their slitted position, (something he only did when he was with her, Toushiro and Momo). He lifted a finger and twirled it, telling her she should turn around, taking the necklace from her and telling her to lift her hair.

"When I said gorgeous," he fastened the necklace and leaned down to kiss the back of her neck, "I was talkin' about ya. And beautiful things _belong _wit beautiful things." He spun her back around, wrapping his arms around her, dropping a kiss onto her nose. "Be my baby, he whispered. "Be my baby, baby, and I'll be ya angel. I'll look after ya."

**xxx**

They were 18, and in their last year of school. Every day that Matsumoto and Gin spent together seemed to make their bond stronger, and Matsumoto was certain that nothing would ever come between them. Not to say that they didn't have their arguments, their spats, their stupid little habits that the other just couldn't STAND. They'd made it through them all, and only come out stronger in the end. Both she and Gin knew that nothing would ever come between them-but of course, neither of them had met Aizen Sousuke.

**xxx**

Aizen Sousuke was perfect, and the only thing worse than his perfectness was the fact that he _knew _it, yet he didn't flaunt it and he wasn't cocky. In fact, he was pretty much your Japanese poster boy. He was captain of the football team. His family was filthy rich and most decidedly _not _hesitant to spread their wealth Aizen's way. He got the highest scores in his class, he had his choice of girls at the school, and he was well-liked and high-praised by all who met and knew him.

And yet, there were two things-or people, rather-that Aizen wanted most in the world, that he was sure he could never have...until one night Ichimaru Gin had _way _too much to drink...

**xxx**

When Matsumoto found out, she was devastated. She stopped wearing the necklace, debated throwing it away, almost flushed it down the toilet about a hundred times. She didn't pick up the phone until the last ring, where she would whisper "Gin?" and hear nothing but the dial tone. If she saw him with another girl at lunch, she would skip third period and go home to cry her eyes red and swollen, fall into bed into a troubled sleep, wake up the nex morning, and do it all over again. It was a pattern she couldn't break (or so she felt), and nothing anyone said seemed to have any affect.

It was one of those days. She'd seen Gin with Hiyori, the one of the tiniest, blondest, most outspoken girls in the school. She'd seen him, later, without her. He'd looked straight at her, his slitted eyes opening in time with his mouth, letting her know he meant to say something serious. And what had she done? Fled. Fled like the pathetic, heartbroken sap she was...Matsumoto felt fresh tears brimming under her eyelids and she fell onto her bed. _What the hell is wrong with me? Why does it still hurt so much?_

Then, from the doorway, she heard him.

"Matsumoto."

**xxx**

He'd only had to say her name. Gin would've been patting himself on the back, but his hands were busy doing, well, _far _more fun things to someone else's front. _Matsumoto's _front. Things he'd been dreaming of doing since, well, to be perfectly honest, their first reunion. Matsumoto panted a little into his mouth, and Gin slowly undid the buttons on her sweater, sliding it down her arms and casting it away, his shirt and undershirt soon following suit. _Ah, but if I'd done this on that day, I'd have no idea what t'do. _He undid the zipper on his pants slowly, shrugged them and his boxers down his legs, then helped Matsumoto get out of hers. _At least I got lots of practice time, so I can give her the perfect first time- _He caught her gasp on his lip as he plunged deep within her, feeling the same thing he'd felt that very first day she'd hugged him so enthustiastically. _I'm home._

**xxx**

Gin had returned to her. Matsumoto fingered the necklace abstractedly. Well, part of Gin had returned to her. The tender, loving Gin was still there-sometimes. Matsumoto didn't see him too often anymore, though. The Gin that had replaced him was a sex-starved, hormonal 18 year old boy with some extremely kinky ideas, ideas that, for the most part, were actually kinda fun and really kinda hot. And she could tell which Gin was coming into her room now-

"Git naked," he growled from the doorway, a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"No," Matsumoto didn't know how she did it, but she somehow she resisted the liquid quality in his voice that bid her shed every scrap of cloth she was wearing. "Gin, we need to talk."

"Talk later, sex now," he disagreed, flicking his eyes up and down her indolently.

"No. Gin, I can't do this." Damn, why did he have to look so _hot_? He leaned against her doorframe, looking for all the world like a marble god. He'd just come from soccer practice, which equaled: shirtless. Wet from his afterpractice shower. A droplet of water beaded its way down his chest, sliding over the smooth bump of one pectoral, slipping over each ridge and bump of his taut stomach, past his ineffably adorable navel, right into the waistband of his pants...Goddamn! Water got all the luck-

_Oh shit. I am SUPPOSED to be coercing him into conversing with me, and NOT about the birds and bees this time either..._

"Do what? Have the best sex of ya life wit me?" He raised his eyebrow, mocking her. He hadn't missed her hungry persual of that water drop. He knew she wanted him.

"You and I BOTH know you're the _only _sex in my life, Gin." She glared at him.

"I know. That's what's so great about it." A cocky grin. "So, can we git down t'it?"

"No."

"Still? C'mon baby, it's been..," he looked down at his wristwatch, "four hours since we last had some 'time'. I was dyin' in soccer practice, thinkin' of ya," he prowled over to her, dropped on the bed beside her and promptly buried his face in her neck.

"Gin, stop. I mean it," Matsumoto batted his head away, shuffling her body a few feet from his on the bed. "Can't you wait for five minutes?"

"If ya promise t'keep it t'that," he watched her solemnly as she linked her fingers with his, bringing her hand up to his mouth and brushing her knuckle with his lips. "Whaddaya wanna talk about?"

"Us," Matsumoto said softly. "Or, more, specifically, you."

"Me?" Gin laughed. "Whattsamatta wit me?"

"I don't know Gin, you tell me." Matsumoto pinned him under her stare mercilessly. "Why is it always have and never hold?"

"What?" Gin's eyebrows knotted. "Whaddaya talkin' about?"

"Why is it always have and never hold, Gin? You've 'had' me a thousand times, in a hundred different positions, and yet, as soon as we're done, you get out, get off, and clean off, leaving me lying there in the after-_ho."_

"After-_ho?_" Gin chucked. "Tell me, Mats-i," he used his favorite nickname for her, "what does after-ho mean?"

"It means," Matsumoto released his fingers from hers and pulled her hands into her own lap, biting her lip and looking down before meeting his eyes with tears threatening to spill from her own, "That I feel like a whore after we have sex, because you don't stay with me."

Gin scooted closer and wrapped her under his arm. "And seeing that all we do is h-have sex," she choked out, the dam holding her sobs starting to break, "It just makes me feel twenty times worse-we d-don't cuddle at all, ever, and I just feel so-"

"Un-loved?" Gin supplied softy. "I love you, Matsumoto, I do. I jus'-I jus'-" He paused. What could he tell her to make her understand? What _should _he tell her? He didn't want to shock her-

"Tell me, Gin. You can trust me."

Looking down into the clear blue sky of her irises, Gin saw that it was the truth. "Brace yaself, Mats-i," he warned. "My past ain't the prettiest thing."

**xxx**


	19. Growing Up Gin

**Author's Note: **

**1) My goodness! It's been soo long since I updated last! :( sorry everyone, but I'm gonna use the excuse of college and moving from my old house to my mom's...so that's why I haven't updated in a while... :(**

**2) We're almost done the Gin/Matsumoto section, only about two more chapters...but I know that it's been really long, so chapter 20 will be all ICHIRUKI!! :)**

**3) Enjoy!**

"Well, I know that you're not really from the streets", Matsumoto coaxed, reaching over to retake his hand between hers, snuggling closer under his arm. Gin sighed.

"No, I ain't from the streets," he conceded. "Ya know what? Ya say we ne'er cuddle. Let's cuddle, Mats-i. I don't think I'm gonna git through this story if I can't feel ya beside me." So saying, he lay them back on the bed, pulling Matsumoto along with him, their legs still dangling off the edge. He pulled her closer against his side, and she molded herself to him as best she could.

"I was born, of course, like any other child," Gin began, his eyes tilting slightly with a mournful look. "I suppose you could say I had a normal enough infancy," he cleared his throat," but it wasn't until I was about six or seven that I realized something was very, very wrong..."

**xxx**

"Mommy, how come you aren't like other mommies?" The inquistive tot asked from where he was standing, next to his mother's chair, on the left side.

"Shush, Gin," hissed an exact replica of him from where he stood on the right. "Momma doesn't want to hear your silly questions."

"It is NOT a silly question!" Gin protested. "I just want to know-"

"Is too!" spat Chin.

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Boys!" Their mother finally cried. "Whatever is the matter with you? Don't you know that all that shouting will only make momma's headache worse? Now, be the little darlings i expect you to be or I shall call for Mr. Kim and he will take you back to your rooms for the rest of the night!"

Both tots instantly fell silent. Neither one liked Mr. Kim, their father and mother's 'personal assistant' and bodyguard. He spoke no Japanese at all, just Korean, which both their mother and father spoke fluently but had not deigned to teach their offspring. He took every opportunity he could get to trip them, hit them in the back of the head, or nudge them into walls and sharp corners. Chin and Gin didn't know what they had done to make him hate them so much, but even at their tender age of six and a half years, they recognized the malice permeating the man's gaze every time he looked at them. They didn't know if it was because they looked different, or because the only language they knew was Japanese, but they did know that he had it in for them. For that reason, the twins tried their best to stay out of his way and as far away from him as possible.

Even though he was across the room, standing at their father's side, the boys could see his eyes shifting to their mother, as if just waiting for her to give the word so he could 'escort' them to their rooms.

Gin opened his mouth to ask his mother one more time, but Chin moved his head the slightest fraction of a inch to warn his brother off. _Careful, brother. She does have a headache._ Gin let his eyes open a tiny bit, then narrowed them back into their usual slits to let his brother know he understood.

Non-verbal communication was very important to the twins. Sometimes it saved them being caught by Mr. Kim when they were somewhere they weren't supposed to be, or just avoiding being caught, in general. Slight nuances in posture and gesture were often the only alerts they need receive from one another to get the point. They also had the uncanny ability to read each another's thoughts simply from a quick glance at the other's eyes. That was the very reason that Gin kept his eyes squinched up most of the time. The last thing he needed was his brother reading his thoughts-hah! That snot-nosed twin of his was quite fond of tattling on him, and since Gin was almost always creating some sort of mayhem or mischief, he kept his eyes slitted shut so Chin couldn't read what was about to happen and warn whoever of the impending chaos...

There was a second reason he kept his eyes so tightly closed. Gin was no fool. (Not saying his twin was either, just a little more naive...). Gin could see that his red eyes disturbed not only his parents, but the servants as well. Chin, for some unknown reason, had been blessed with a pale rose colour that was actually quite beautiful. Both boys were albino, pale as pale could be, with matching shocks of white hair tufted across their little heads.

"Very rare, very rare indeed," the doctor had told their mother gruffly, hours after the delivery. It was really too bad that ultrasounds didn't show colour, or else he would've hyped it up, and now-now! that they'd successfully been birthed, he could have been famous! "In fact, madame, you have had perhaps the world's only case ever of albino twins-that survived, that is," he harrumphed.

Mrs. Ichimaru simply smiled and handed the babies off to their wet nurse. The doctor frowned. The woman hadn't held either one of _her _babies for more than 5 minutes straight after popping them out, but he deemed it wise not to say anything condemning her. "That's quite a distinction," she murmured. "I shall be sure to tell my husband."

**xxx**

The twins saw their parents very rarely in their early years. In actual fact, the twins were only in their parent's prescence if Ichimaru Hiyuki and Ichimaru Saiya were hosting, and even then, it was only for a few hours at a time. "It's not as if the little rugrats mind," Saiya hissed at her husband from behind a delicately painted fan that didn't, (much to her annoyance), match exactly with her exquisitely crafted kimono. "Look at how happy they are with that nanny of theirs." She arched a groomed eyebrow when Gin let loose with a particularly loud giggle at a face the plump woman made at him.

"Mmm," her husband nodded. To be honest, Ichimaru Hiyuki about 1 interest in his offspring. "Oh, good, an heir," was all he'd said upon being called with the news that his wife had given birth, "But can you call me back with the details? I'm in the middle of a meeting." He'd later amended his statement, (upon walking into the hospital about 26 hours later, and finding he had two sons instead of just one), "Even better. An heir, and a spare." He'd then turned and walked right back out.

In all honesty, Hiyuki hadn't wanted children-or a wife. He was in love with nothing but money, and he'd always known that he would care for nothing else-well, maybe the family name and honor. He cared about those as well. After all the besmirching that dirty old bastard of a father had done to it, who had pulled the Ichimaru name out of the dirt and made it infamous again? Him. _Although..._Hiyuki shot a glance over at his wife. He couldn't have done it without the addition of Saiya's considerable dowry to his funds. He leaned over and placed a quick kiss on her cheek.

"What was that for," she smiled, but her eyes snapped with anger. Saiya detested being touched.

"Oh, your clever little self," Hiyuki tweaked her nose, in what to anyone else would appear to be affectionate, but he made sure that it would cause her pain. To her credit, she didn't wince, just shot daggers at him.

"Thank you, dear husband," she replied silkily, gliding away from him. "Now, I must go see to our _darling_ boys."

**xxx**

"So if your father didn't want children OR a wife, whyever did he get married?" Matsumoto propped herself up on her elbow and stared down at Gin in bewilderment.

"Well, _he _said he never did," Gin laughed hollowly. "But my mother, she loved to manipulate-and still does," he gritted. "And she had quite a different plan for him..."

**xxx**

They had met at her debutante ball-which hadn't happened until she was 18, since she had been in Europe for the past two years at an English finishing school. Her sister had hidden away in Hiyuki's limo, drinking 3 bottles of champagne and passing out on the floor-the scene Hiyuki was greeted with when his chauffeur opened the door. Saiya herself had come out to bid the most interesting man she'd met all night adieu-what passion he had for business! She could see this one going far, farther than all those stuffy, empty-headed morons who were convinced that their inheritance meant they'd never have to work again-she wanted a man with _drive._ Hiyuki fit the bill-unfortunately, the silly man didn't want to marry. _Well, we'll see about that. _

**xxx**

"But how did she get your father to marry her?" Matsumoto laid back down, resting her head on his shoulder. Gin picked up a lock of silky hair and wound it around his fingers.

"Simple. She got herself pregnant wit me n' Chin. My father had no choice," Gin dropped her hair and took her hand in his once more, playing with her fingers idly. "He still can't decide whether he hates or loves her more fer it. My mother," he swallowed, "will always be a manipulater, but fer as much as she manipulates him, my father manipulates other people...they both take a sort of pleasure in it, I guess," he shrugged.

"Did they spare you their manipulations, Gin?"

"What d'ya think?" he sighed and looked away.

**xxx**

"Hiyuki, the nanny must _go_," hissed Saiya to her husband's back as he stood infront of the liquor cabinent, brandy snifter in hand. "I don't know what she's done to those boys, but that little scene tonight-" She paused to fan herself vigorously. "It's quite obvious we cannot trust that woman at all! I want her gone, tonight."

"It's already done," Hiyuki said gravely. "Shall we start interviews-"

"NO!" screamed Saiya, her face turning red with rage. "How could you suggest that? I refuse to have another twit come in here and brainwash our children! They are NOT," she paused to collect herself, smoothing a hand over her hair and down the front of her dress, "having a nanny, ever again. They've been coddled enough, evidently."

Hiyuki took a long swallow of brandy, enjoying the burn on his throat. He turned to face his wife. "What do you suggest, then?"

"A tutor, a strict one that will brook no mischief. And bodyguards to watch them at all times to make sure that _nothing _is taught them that will cause another outburst like that." She took a deep breath and snapped the fan closed.

"It is done," Hiyuki nodded, snapping his fingers. His right-hand man, Mr. Kim, materialized at his side and Hiyuki rattled off in rapid Korean what he wished.

Mr. Kim smiled and vanished into the night.

**xxx**

Gin didn't understand what he had done wrong. He and Chin sat huddled in the corner of their nursery, Gin with his thumb in his mouth, his hand gripping Chin's tightly. Nanny had handed him over to that strange woman, who Gin had seen once in a while, but not very often. And while she was pretty, (in a harsh sort of way), and smelled good, she had been holding him far too tightly. When Gin squirmed, she had told him harshly to stop, and when he asked "Why?" (his favourite game with Nana!) she told him that he would be 'punished'. And when he dared to voice another why, the lady had dropped him to the floor, which caused him to cry, which caused Nanny to run over and ask him if he was being good to his momma, to which Gin had replied, quite adamnantly;

"She's NOT my momma!"

Gasps all around the room. Saiya felt her face turning red with embarrassment and rage, but she kept calm and reached down to her son, regardless. "Now, Gin, surely you can't mean that. Come to me, darling."

"You're NOT my momma!" Gin had screamed, and buried his head into his nurse's skirts. Saiya glared at her. How DARE she allow Gin to make such a scene! Why, the girl was worthless. Then, to add insult to injury , Gin turned from the shelter of the girls skirts and cried, "Nanny is my momma! She treats me nice and doesn't drop me!" Another gasp from the ballroom, and Saiya had enough. She snapped her fingers, and Mr. Kim appeared to whisk the nanny and her ungrateful child out of sight.

**xxx**

"Sir, I hate to bother you, but-"

"Yes, man, what is it?" Hiyuki looked up from his papers, frowning. The boy's tutor had the most annoying habit of wringing his hands together and licking his lips when he was nervous, and he was obviously very distraught from the workout his hands and his tongue were getting.

"Well sir, it's about your older twin, Gin..."

**xxx**

"Now Gin, I've asked you a thousand times, nicely, to stop talking like your nanny. Your tutor has asked you, bribed you, punished you. Just what will it take for you to begin to start talking properly?" Hiyuki tapped his foot on the floor, his older offspring glaring up at him, arms folded, radiating defiance. Honestly, while Hiyuki admired the boy's tenacious spirit, just who did he think he was? And why the hell was the boy so attached to that nanny? She'd been dismissed 3 months ago, but the boy still refused to learn how to talk properly. "If you won't listen to reason, maybe something else will change your mind," Hiyuki warned. "I'm giving you one month, Gin. One month. And trust me, boy," he smiled cruelly, "if you haven't learned to talk properly by that time, I will have thought up something that _will_ work to make you."


	20. Interlude

**Author's Note:**

**1) As promised, IchiRuki!**

**2) Watch out, this part deserves the M rating..:P**

**Happy Reading! ;)**

"WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!?"

Rukia squinted up at what appeared to be one very pissed-off carrottop in surprise. He had seen that?! Well, that was more of a good thing then bad, she supposed. Especially if she decided to complain to Captain Ukitake, Kurosaki could corroborate-

"You'll let _him _touch you, but I can't even-even-even-" sputtered Ichigo, knitting his brows even closer together. He was FURIOUS. He'd all but ruled out the idea of Detective Kuchiki being a 'field bunny', but he'd just been proved wrong. Apparently, little Kuchiki had absolutely no problem with letting everyone else on the team but _him _get some. And _everyone else_ meant Ichimaru Gin, apparently. Ichimaru Gin! The creepiest, sneakiest, most bastard-ly bastard on the whole team! "And all this time, I thought you were just hesitant because of the business-pleasure connundrum! I'll bet you've enjoyed playing your little games with me, haven't you, you frosty bitch!" He spat.

Rukia felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise to attention. How _dare _he call her a whore, when she'd just practically been molested! Why did she even think for one second that the stupid ass had seen what was actually happening! _Honestly, how STUPID can one footballer be!?_

"You-how dare you call me a bitch!?" She sputtered, stalking forward until her chest hit his. "You have got to be THE DUMBEST excuse for an athlete I've ever met!" She jabbed her finger into his chest with each word, pushing him until his back hit the opposite wall. "Nevermind the fact I was just _sexually assaulted_, Kurosaki. I'm so pleased to know you can tell the difference. Did I _look _as if I was enjoying his manhandling of me? If I was enjoying it so much, then why did I pull my gun on him? Oh, but wait. To your perverted, puerile, microscopic brain, it MUST be something I do just to add to the excitement, eh, Kurosaki?"

"How should I know?" Ichigo grabbed her wrist to deter her stabbing finger and held it away from him. What was she trying to do, poke a hole straight through him and skewer him to the wall?

"I didn't see too much resistance on your part, Little Miss Field Bunny."

"FIELD BUNNY?!" Forget mad, Rukia was positively livid. "For your information, if not for this completely RIDICULOUS assignment my asshole of a brother assigned me too, I wouldn't have had anything to do with football whatsoever. And I'd have been glad of it, now that I know what I originally thought of you is true-you egotistical, spoiled son-of-a-bitch!" She couldn't even punch him. If she punched him in this state, she wouldn't stop, and then there'd be another footballer dead. _But they'd know who the murderer was. I'd make sure of it._ Rukia gave the footballer one last glare and pivoted on her heel to walk away-

Only to be jerked back against the footballer's chest by the wrist he still held. Rukia snapped her head back to meet his gaze, more than a little shocked when she saw worry there. Ichigo knitted his brows together and leaned down to her. "I'm sorry for calling you a whore, and a field bunny," he said softly. "Rukia. Did he hurt you?"

Rukia felt her mouth drop open. _How can he just switch from one emotion to the other so quickly?!_ "No," she managed weakly. The way he'd said Rukia...so tenderly, as if he actually cared...she felt something flutter inside her. _No. _She did NOT want to be honest and admit that part of the reason she was so pissed off at Gin was because she and Kurosaki hadn't even made it to that part of her body yet-

Ichigo watched Rukia's eyes darken and felt desire-and something else begin to rise. _Fuck, Kurosaki, you're in trouble. _You couldn't call it anything else when seeing a woman pissed off got you hot. But here he was, standing with a very mad lady-and finding her wholly sexy. Despite the taut way she was holding her body, Ichigo had the distinct impression-(from her eye colour changing, and the hitch in her breathing he'd been fortunate enough to catch), that Detective Kuchiki was very much wishing, despite what had just happened, that something else of the same nature would happen...with him.

"Are you sure?" He gentled his voice even more, leaning back against the wall and tugging the woman towards him.

"Yes." Rukia coughed, somehow unable to resist as Kurosaki pulled her close to him. He spun around suddenly and pinned her to the wall with his body, eliciting a little gasp of shock from her.

"You're still in shock," Ichigo whispered next to her ear, sliding his hands up from her wrists, to her shoulders, holding her against the wall gently. "I think I need to personally inspect you for damage..."

_What a cheesy line. _Rukia raised her eyebrow, but Ichigo just smiled down at her as he bent his head to claim her lips.

**XXX**

Gin smiled as he watched Kurosaki lean down to kiss little Miss Kuchiki. _Excellent. _If he made an educated guess, those two would be occupied for about oh, 20 mins? "Perfect. Just enough time," he smirked and slipped down the corridor.

**XXX**

Rukia sighed. Ichigo's hand had once again found it's way under the bust of her dress, and while she wasn't exactly pleased at how fast he'd slipped it under there, she _was _extremely pleased with what it was doing.

Ichigo plunged his tongue back into Rukia's mouth, taking his time to relearn all its hollows. He tilted her head back with one hand, then shifted his from side to side, as if trying to figure out which way he liked better. He used the heel of his other hand to push the detective's breast back against her chest. Rukia sighed into his mouth again, and Ichigo bent his knees and pushed his hips against hers, hard, sliding his mouth from hers down to her neck.

"Ooooh," she moaned. "Do that again."

"Sure thing," he murmured, and pushed against her once more, a jolt of pleasure shooting through him when she pushed back. He slid his hand off her breast and grabbed her arms, sliding her up the wall until her chest was level with his face, rubbing his dick against her. Ichigo yanked her dress down over her tits, using his hips to hold her against the wall while he fastened his mouth over one impertinent nipple and bit it.

"Ow," Rukia cried, her back arching towards the delicious pain even as she protested it. Ichigo lifted his head for a second, fixing her with a wicked smile, then re-fastened his mouth to her tit, sucking now, hollowing his cheeks to fit the entire orb in his mouth-

_Oh my g-_ She couldn't even finish the thought. There were simply too many sensations to take in, his hot, wet mouth encompassing her, his other hand pushing and tugging at her nipple, his hips pressing against hers ever so insistently, and his other hand-his other hand-

Ichigo opened his mouth wider, stroking the flat of his tongue first one way, then the other. He slowly slid his left hand down, over her ribs, past her stomach, along her outer thigh, and then up, up her inner...he paused, lifting his eyes to watch Rukia's reaction. She was breathing heavy, her eyes completely muddled with desire and anticipation. He felt her hands clench and unclench in his hair, and he _knew _she wanted what was to come. And so he gave it to her.

Rukia couldn't believe she was letting this happen-couldn't believe it, and couldn't be bothered to care. She'd been pleasured before, of course!-but no one, no one in her (admittedly limited) experience had seemed to know exactly where to touch her, and when-and Kurosaki did. He took his time, in no great hurry, and Rukia found that she appreciated that, more than anything. He started by rubbing her through her panties, slowly circling her bud, then suddenly, pushing them aside and delving his middle finger inside of her.

Ichigo dropped his head to the wall, turning to drag his tongue along the shell of her ear. "You're-so-tight," he whispered hoarsely, feeling her contract against his finger. He curled his digit inside of her and she breathed his name. "Say that again," he commanded, pressing his thumb against her clit while he slid his finger in and out of her.

"Kuro, saki," Rukia sobbed, arching her back, tilting her hips as he kept plunging his finger in and out of her. "Please, please..," she begged.

"Hmm?" Ichigo stopped moving his finger, even as Rukia kept arching her hips. "Please what, Rukia?" He kept sliding his thumb over her clit, and she jerked against him.

"You bastard," she gritted. "Don't make me say i-it!" She pushed against him as he slid yet another finger into her.

"Say it, Rukia," he hissed, trailing the tip of his tongue against her collarbone. "Beg me."

Rukia curled her hands into his hair, hanging on tightly as he scissored his fingers gently, then pulled them out all the way, his thumb still caressing her. "P-please, make me-make me-come," she whispered brokenly.

"As you wish," he treated her to another wicked smile and plunged his fingers inside her, hard and fast. Rukia felt herself get wetter (as if that was even possible!?) as he continued the maddening rhythm of fingers and thumb. Ichigo lowered his head back to her chest, and Rukia felt herself hurtling towards oblivion, close, close, so close-and suddenly, she was there. She gasped, her hips pumping against his hand, as she closed her eyes and felt release.

Ichigo felt the little detective's body go limp, and he stepped back, letting her slide down the wall and into his arms. She slumped against him, seemingly boneless. Ichigo felt a smirk crawling across his face, and he lifted her head up with his right hand. Rukia's eyes fluttered open, then widened as Ichigo slid his two fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean. Then he leaned down and kissed her once more, his mouth hot and hard.

Rukia pulled back finally, the haze of passion slowly dissapating. _What did I just do_? Ichigo tugged her dress up, over her breasts, and down, over her legs. He reached for her gun from where he'd tossed? it over on the chairs, and slid it into her thigh holster. Rukia didn't even remember him taking it off. She'd let down her guard that much?! _Not good, Rukia. Not good. _Ichigo bent to kiss her again, but she turned her face so he only grazed her cheek.

"What's wrong, Rukia?" He queried, his brows drawing together in confusion.

"Nothing," she shook her head, and stood on tiptoe to brush his lips with hers. "C'mon, let's find Gin and go."

**XXX**


	21. Gin History Part I

**Author's Note**

**1). **

**Anyways, happy reading! :)**

"Did you start talking properly within the deadline?" Matsumoto's eyes widened.

"What d'ya think, Mats-i?"

**XXX**

"What did I tell you, boy?" Hiyuki glared down at his offspring, who just grinned back at him.

"I dunno, what did'ya tell me?"

"I said that you'd better stop talking with that terrible accent, or..." Hiyuki snapped his fingers, and Mr. Kim materialized by his side.

"Or what? Ya gonna git yer hired muscle ta beat me?" Gin spat.

"No, Gin." Hiyuki just smiled. "I'm much smarter than that, I _know _that I'd never be able to beat it out of you..."

"Yer smarter than I thought, then."

"Don't you ever forget it, boy." Hiyuki turned to Mr. Kim and fired off orders in Korean, of course. Mr. Kim nodded and left the room, but not before he fixed Gin with an evil look of satisfaction.

"You will learn to talk properly, Ichimaru Gin. I will not have you talking in that strange dialect anymore," Hiyuki intoned coldy. "I don't care what I have to do, but you _will _talk properly."

"So ya've said."

Mr. Kim reappeared, holding a squirming ball of fur within his massive mitts.

"Yuichi?" Gin cocked his head, puzzled. "What d'ya want wit him?"

"You'll see," Hiyuki smirked.

"Don't hurt 'im!" Gin shrieked, rushing toward Mr. Kim, but his father grabbed him and locked his arms behind his back. Yuichi was a purebred black lab, a gift to the twins for their birthday, only four months old. Both boys loved the dog, but Yuichi had formed a special attachment to Chin, following him everywhere, only with Gin when Chin wasn't around or when the twins were together.

"What are ya doin'?" Gin cried. "Let 'im go! If ya hurt 'im, I'll-"

"You'll what, Gin?" His father leaned down to hiss into his ear. "Learn to talk properly, maybe?"

Gin felt his eyes widen in horror as Hiyuki nodded to Mr. Kim, and the man took the puppy's forepaw between his hands and-

SNAP! Yuichi let out a horrible yipping, howling noise and Gin could only stand in shock as the bone burst from the puppy's leg.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Gin cried, as Mr. Kim moved his hands to the other leg. "I'll talk properly! See, I'm talking right! Just leave him alone!" He sobbed, squirming and twisting, but his father wouldn't lessen his grip.

"I'm sorry, Gin, but it's too late," His father sneered. "The dog will never walk properly again, anyways. And we must be sure you've learned your lesson, hm?"

The dogs piteous cries melded with Gin's wrenching sobs as Mr. Kim continued his grisly execution.

**XXX**

"Oh my god, Gin." Matsumoto brought her hand to her mouth. "Your father killed you and your brothers _dog _because you wouldn't talk properly?"

"That's it, Mats-i," Gin looked at her, finally, watching tears swim in her eyes. "As ya can imagine, Chin was devastated...Yuichi was the only thing that loved 'im, besides me," Gin cleared his throat, "an' sometimes even I wonder if Yuichi loved 'im more. Chin blamed me fer his death," he sighed, "and fer the next couple of years, he made it 'is mission in life ta make mine hell...I took it fer about a year, an' then I ran away..."

"Was that when I met you?" Matsumoto asked, smoothing her hand along his chest.

"Yes, Mats-i," Gin kissed the tip of her nose. "An' when I got taken away from the orphanage? My parents found me, an' I had ta leave ya."

"I missed you so much, Gin," She buried her face in his chest and wrapped her arms around him. "I missed you so much."

"I did too, Mats-i. I did too."

**XXX**

Gin hated being home. He missed the orphanage, he missed Matsumoto. He missed feeling loved, and wanted. He trudged through the mansion towards his room. He'd been back for a year, here he was, nine years old, and yet he still missed everything from the time he'd been free-

Gin tripped over something, smacking his chin off the marble floor, feeling tears push at the corners of his eyes. _Ouch. Chin, _his brain told him. He got onto his hands and knees and turned his head slowly.

"You should be more careful, Gin," his twin leered. "Watch where you're going, will you?"

Gin said nothing, just got up and continued on his way. Although it had happened more than two years ago, Chin was still holding a grudge against Gin for Yuichi's death. Nevermind the fact that _he _had been the one who had actually had to watch it, Chin believed it was all Gin's fault. Gin had to admit that he didn't necessarily disagree. He should've known what his father was capable of-

_But ya didn't, an' that's the problem. _Gin sighed as he meandered into his room. He missed his twin, to be perfectly honest.

Without Chin, he had no one.

**XXX**

`_How long can a grudge go on?_ Gin wondered as he climbed into the limo. Gin fingered the nasty bruise starting to swell over his eye. Here he and Chin were, 12 years old, and his brother still refused to forgive him for Yuichi's death. _When will this stop, Chin? _He opened his eyes and looked at his twin, who simply turned his head to gaze out the window.

That night, Gin walked to his twin's room, not bothering to knock on the door, knowing that Chin would just lock him out and refuse to talk to him. He walked into the room, greeted by an odd sight-his brother, on his knees in front of the window, a little candle burning.

"Chin?" ventured Gin.

Chin turned his head slowly, the flickering candlelight casting dark shadows over his face, picking up the evil glint in his eye.

"Do you know what day it it, brother?" he asked.

"Ummm, no?"

"This is the day-YOU KILLED YUICHI!" Chin yelled, tears streaming down his face. "The only thing in this entire world that actually," he sniffled, "l-loved me..."

"He wasn't the only thing," Gin corrected. "I love you too, Chin..."

"If you loved me, you would have saved Yuichi," Chin sniffed. "You would've started talking properly BEFORE Father thought of a way to make you."

"How many times can I say I'm sorry!" cried Gin. "You act like you're the only victim here! I had to watch, Chin. I had to watch!" In his mind's eye, Gin began to replay the scene, and his shoulders shook as the terror and helplessness revisited him. "I didn't know he would do t-that! It's been five years, Chin, five years! Why can't you just let it go?"

"Because I hate you, Gin," Chin stood over him, his face contorted. "You could've saved Yuichi, but, you didn't. I hate you for that, and I always will."

"Chin," sobbed Gin. "D-don't say that," he hiccuped.

"Get out of my room, killer."

**XXX**

"But you reconciled with him, right?" Matsumoto asked.

"Ya, Chin came to his senses an' realized it wasn't all my fault, an' that he'd been wrong in blamin' me," Gin said. "He grew up, I guess..." Gin lied. He would never tell her what had really happened...

"Well that's good, then," Matsumoto snuggled back in against his side. "Did your parents continue to try and manipulate you?"

"Of course," snorted Gin. "But wit age, maturity. Chin and me, we learned how ta get around 'em. As long as we did what they wanted, they left us alone."

"Oh, Gin," Matsumoto pulled him even closer still. "I think I understand, a lot better now. I'm sorry for making you tell me, darling."

"It's alright," Gin dropped another kiss on her nose. "Ya deserved ta know, Mats-i. An' I feel better, after tellin' ya..." Another lie. Gin rolled her onto her back, suddenly, and rose up above her. "But enough talk, Mats-i. That was definately more than five minutes," he grinned, "and ya promised ta keep it ta that, and ya didn't...d'ya know what that means?"

"I think I do," grinned Matsumoto, and pulled him down for a kiss.

**XXX**

Gin climbed into his Porsche, shut the door, and sighed loud and long. "She really took it outta me, tonight," he muttered to no one in particular. Re-telling his life's story had made him relive it all over again, something he hadn't particularly enjoyed. He closed his eyes and an image of Yuichi's broken and mangled body flashed across them. He rubbed his temples, trying to relieve the pounding pressure behind them.

"From heaven," he glanced up at Matsumoto's room, "to hell." He turned the key in the ignition and peeled off into the night.

**XXX**

"Well, Gin, who is this mystery girl you spend so much time with?" Exclaimed Ichimaru Saiya. "Your father and I want you to bring her here for dinner!"

"No, thanks," Gin demurred.

"Oh, c'mon now, Gin," his father jumped into the fray. "It's not right of you to hide her from us-"

"Or is it?" Gin countered, stabbing his food savagely with his chopsticks. "Did you two ever consider the fact that maybe I don't want to introduce you?"

"Whyever not?" Saiya narrowed her eyes, daring her recalcitrant child to state it out loud.

"Forget it." Gin dropped the attitude when he noticed the edge creep into his mother's voice. "You want to meet her? Fine, I'll bring her to dinner. What day works with everyone's schedules?"

"Sunday?" Saiya suggested, looking to Hiyuki, who only nodded.

"Sunday," Gin confirmed. _Shit. Here we go._

**XXX**

"Your parents want me to come to dinner?" frowned Matsumoto.

"Ya," Gin nodded. "But here's the thing...we hafta tell them that yer rich, ok?"

"What?!"

"They would never let me be wit someone they consider 'common'. Please, Mats-i, it's the only way..."

"The only way what?" Matsumoto growled.

"That they'll let us be together, babe." Gin sighed. "Please, fer my sake..."

"Fine. It's just dinner, right?"

"That's right. We go, we eat, we get out." Gin felt the tension in his shoulders relax as Matsumoto nodded. "But first, I need ta take ya shoppin'..."

**XXX**

Sunday night came far too quickly. Gin was nervous, nervous about Matsumoto-_could she keep her big mouth shut?_-nervous about his parents' reactions-_will they believe that she's rich?_-nervous about Chin-_will he tell them the truth if they ask him?_

_Please, don't let them find out she's not rich._


	22. Gin History Part II

**Author's Note:**

**1) I'm sorry this chapter is so short. I was planning on it being longer and finishing off Gin's past, but time got away from me, and I really wanted to be able to post something today...**

**2) So here it is. Next chapter will be a)longer, b)finish off Gin's past [finally!], and c) have some more mainstory. I promise.**

**3) Anyways...enjoy?**

_That went well, suprisingly. _Dinner had been a success. Matsumoto had been at her most charming, carrying on a gushy conversation over some new up-and-coming designer brand with his mother and laughing at his father's (horrendous) jokes. She even steered clear of the sake, which Gin was very, very grateful for. Not that he didn't enjoy Matsumoto drunk, oh no, that wasn't it at all, he smiled. She tended to get _very _experimental when she was tanked, something Gin had definitely benefitted from. Sake usually just made her very loud, and well, _free _with her body...

_Speaking of that. _She'd looked absolutely stunning in the black Chanel they'd picked up last weekend, and a pair of strappy black stilettos. He'd taken her to one of his mother's favourite salons to get her hair, makeup, nails, whatever else he could think of done. He dropped her off, handed her his credit card, and told her "Do whatever y'can think of." When he'd picked her up, his jaw literally dropped. Matsumoto was gorgeous anytime, of course, but she'd been absolutely breathtaking. His father had thought so too, by the way he'd made sure he had a seat beside her at dinner and hung off of Matsumoto's every word...but Gin wasn't worried. He knew that Mats-i would never do anything to hurt him...

**XXX**

"Ya were perfect, doll," Gin brushed his lips against hers. He pulled back and stared down into her eyes. Matsumoto smiled and turned to press a kiss into the hand cradling her face. Gin kissed her again. "Yer always beautiful, but tonight? Mats-i, y'blew me away," he whispered into her ear, before he started pulling at the pins holding her hair up. "This was all I could think at dinner," he growled as he laid her back on the bed...

**XXX**

"Gin. They know."

"Know what?"

Chin sighed. "They know Matsumoto isn't rich."

"WHAT?!?" Gin sprang out of his chair, his eyes flickering open. Chin didn't know how long it'd been since his brother had last fully opened his eyes infront of him-noticing him staring, Gin slitted them again. "What. Did. Y'. Just. Say!?"

"Mom and Dad know that Matsumoto is a commoner, Gin," repeated Chin wearily. "I just thought I'd warn you before they come to ask you about it-" He turned to leave the room, but Gin grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Wait jus' a second, there, _brother_," Gin spat. "Whaddaya mean, ask ME about it?" Gin opened his eyes again, this time to stab his brother with a glare. Chin ducked his head to avoid Gin seeing the guilt he was sure was manifested there, but Gin caught it. "Ya. TOLD THEM?" He shouted incredulously. His words were followed by his fist. Chin reeled back from the shock of it.

"How couldja, y'bastard!"

Chin put a hand up to his stinging jaw and rubbed it slowly as he considered his reply. "You know I made myself promise to never lie about you again..." he stated.

"This ain't about me," Gin hissed. "It would be fer me, y'sack of shit!"

"They asked me, Gin," Chin held his hands up infront of him, placatingly. "You know that they can always tell when I'm lying..."

"That don't matter. Y'coulda tried!" Gin's mind was whirling frantically. _Fuck, they know, they know, they know..._He hoped to God they WOULD come ask him about it first, instead of just-oh, God-just 'getting rid' of the problem...Mats-i!

Chin said nothing, just stood there with his hands out infront of him. _What is he waiting for, me to tell him it's ok? _"Git the fuck away from me," Gin snarled.

Chin started to step towards him, then apparently thought better of it and backed away. "Gin, I'm sorry..." he started.

"Sorry fer what, Chin?" Gin snapped. "Fuckin' me over, yet _again!_ Dammit, it don't matter what stupid-ass promise y'made ta y'self, y'coulda lied THIS time fer me instead of telling the truth! Y'owed me that, asshole."

Chin hung his head. "I couldn't lie..." he began feebly.

"Ya, y'coulda. Fuck, Chin!" Gin gripped his head and began pacing the room, breathing heavily. "Git the fuck out." When the door clicked, Gin slumped back into his chair, digging his fingers into his skull. _Why? _He thought numbly. "Why couldn't he jus' do it fer me, jus' once?" he asked the wall...

**XXX**

It was the twin's 13th birthday, and the party thrown for them was long, loud, and expensive...and not really theirs at all. _Our birthday is just an excuse for our parents to make sure their position in society is secure._ Chin glared across the table at his parents, who, as was normal in their house, ignored his and Gin's existence completely. Chin hated them. He looked down at the cake infront of him, most of it gone already, and grimaced. He'd asked for separate cakes, because he still hated Gin for getting Yuichi killed-_well, not really_-he'd just gotten over that, but for some reason, he found it easier to hold it over Gin's head, and hurt him. He should stop, he supposed, but sometimes he found it sort of fun...

**XXX**

Gin looked down at his cake dejectedly. Most of his was gone, too. He looked across the table at Chin, but as usual, his twin was ignoring him. Or maybe not. _He's probably planning the next thing he can do to get me in trouble. _As of late, Chin's favourite way of letting Gin know he still hated him was to break, steal, or wreck something that belonged to their parents, then place the blame on Gin. Gin never bothered to stand up for himself, seeing as his parents always believed Chin over him, anyways. And since the thing with Yuichi, Chin had tattled on anything and everything Gin had done, and now his parents trusted Chin to report all of Gin's shenanigans to them. Nevermind the fact that Gin tried to stay out of Chin's way as much as possible, he still looked for and planned ways to get Gin in trouble...

Gin pushed the cake around on his plate. Of course, this birthday was terrible. They'd all been, except for the one year he'd spent at the convent orphanage. Gin smiled as he remembered the (terrible) chocolate cake Matsumoto tried to make him, the new soccer ball she'd saved all her shopping money for months to buy him, and (he giggled) the kiss she gave him on the cheek later, while they were snuggling together talking about it.

Gin felt someone's gaze on him-Chin's, and looked up across the table. Chin's eyes glinted, and a secretive smile stole across his features as he hopped down from the table and padded over into the living room, his eyes never leaving Gin's...

_Here we go. _Gin stabbed his fork into his cake and went to see what his twin was gonna blame him for now...

**XXX**

Before Chin could put his (brilliant) plan into action, his parents called him and Gin over to receive their presents-a dry, impersonal kiss from their mother, and...a puppy for him. Chin looked at the wriggling ball of fur and felt a surge of rage, towards his parents, Gin, and everyone there. _Do they not remember what they did to my last puppy? _ The thing was dumped into his arms, and began enthusiastically licking his face, and all Chin could feel was hate. He handed the dog off to a maid, mumbled his gratitude to his parents, and stalked out of the room, fuming. _Gin'll pay for this._

**XXX**

"Ahhhhhh!" Ichimaru, Saiya's shriek echoed through the house. Gin rolled over in his bed and squeezed his eyes tight. _I wonder what 'I' did now..._


End file.
